


Trust Me, Trust Us, Trust You

by Cinder7storm4



Series: Trust is Worth More than Love to a Stilinski [2]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Bobby Singer, BAMF Melissa McCall, BAMF Pack, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Demonic Possession, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Magic, Magical Claudia Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Memory Alteration, Memory Magic, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Bobby Singer, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Spark Claudia Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Has Issues, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stilinski Family Feels, Trust Issues, referenced John Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:48:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 45,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15694026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder7storm4/pseuds/Cinder7storm4
Summary: Stiles still has too many secrets. The more he discovers about himself and his family's history the more he starts to wonder about how safe it is for him to be around the pack. He'll protect them no matter what the cost.And what does his mother's cottage on the Hale property have to do with everything?*This is an continuation of my "How Can I Trust You?" series. You don't necessarily have to read that to understand this, but I'd encouraged you to do so anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf (or Supernatural which appears in Ch. 18).

Stiles was the first one to move. Somehow. He pushed himself off the ground and was just about to look around frantically when a cool, comforting hand cupped his cheek. “Mica?” his mom’s voice was quiet, “How do you feel?” 

It was then that Stiles realized he was glowing, faintly. He brought a hand up to watch as the light seemed to flow around it. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” his mom asked him, gently, “But nowhere near as amazing as you, my Mischief.” Then forgetting about his glowing body for a moment Stiles threw himself at his mother, afraid that she would vanish again any moment now. Claudia caught her son easily and tugged him close, tucking him in her arms. The glow ignited in her too, and the soft light spread throughout the clearing, waking up the Hale pack who came back to consciousness as the spirit forms of the dead Hales circled them, keeping them safe. 

The moment John awoke he swiftly got to his feet, looking for Stiles only to see him and Claudia on the ground a few feet from him, wrapped up tightly together in a hug. They were glowing. John didn’t know what to do. 

“Go to them,” the form of Talia Hale that had appeared at his side encouraged him, “We only have so much time here. Go.” The former alpha nudged the Sheriff along with a pointed shove in the direction of his son and wife. He didn’t need telling twice. As he approached the glow receded, passing from Claudia into Stiles as they drew apart slightly, “What? Why?” he heard Stiles ask in wonder.

“It’s all yours now, I kept some back. It might have killed you otherwise, Mischief,” she responded smoothing a hand over Stiles’ hair. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke his name, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t protect you.”

“Mom,” Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but the look on his mom’s face stopped him, he had to hear her out. 

“I am under no delusions that you do not blame yourself for something, but know this Mischief, it was not your fault.” As she spoke a feeling of certainty and calm forced itself into Stiles’ mind, settling there, like a wolf protecting its cubs. The feeling behind his mother’s words growled at the darker thoughts in his head. She was protecting him now, even now. She felt he was worth protecting and at that thought Stiles pitched forward and wrapped his arms around her again, holding her tightly and crying silently.

John, unsure of his welcome, but unable to keep himself from drawing closer knelt next to the two of them. Claudia looked away from Stiles, her eyes, so much like her son’s own met her husband’s squarely. Her gaze was fierce, and John had no delusions that she was particularly happy with him at the moment, but there was also love in her eyes, so much love that he thought even now he would happily drown in it, if only to be with her again. She took one hand off of Stiles shoulder and beckoned John forward. The little family tucked themselves into a tight knot of love, warmth, and comfort. 

Talia shook her head at John as he set off to greet his wife and comfort his son. Then she turned around to survey the pack, eyes alighting first on her brother, then her son, the one who’d become Alpha against all odds. She strode forward to greet them too. Unfortunately, Laura and Robert both had the same idea. The three of them crashed into Derek, Talia tugging Peter into the embrace too. They fell to the ground at the force of impact, but Derek couldn’t find it in himself to care. His mother, father, and sister were all here. The majority of the rest of the spirit Hale pack had vanished after the fight, and while Derek would have loved to see his cousins and other relatives he was almost deliriously happy to have his parents and sibling back with him and Peter. 

The rest of the new Hale pack watched, in amusement as their Alpha was tackled by his family, the bright happiness he was feeling flaring over their pack bonds. Eventually, the three spirit wolves got up pulling their packmates up with them. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your pack, little bro?” Laura teased Derek, cuffing him lightly over the head, but all Derek did was smile and beckon his betas forward. Chris, Allison, and Lydia following after them, smiling at the scene. 

“Wait, where’s Cora?” Derek asked once introductions had been made, looking around, unsure if he’d just missed her. 

“She’s with another pack at the moment, but she’s not bound to them.” Claudia’s voice entered the conversation as she approached the packs, Stiles holding tight to her hand, John keeping an arm around her waist, “I have a feeling she’ll be along shortly.”

“She’s not dead?” Peter whispered, hope in his eyes.

Claudia shook her head “No, she’s not.” Then she turned to Talia “Do you want to make the introductions?”

“Pretty sure they’re clear on who you are, Jinx” the former Alpha told her friend, rolling her eyes “This, for those of you that are thick enough to have not guessed yet, is Claudia Stilinski, former Spark and Emissary of the Hale Pack.”

Talia’s words were met with amusement and confusion. “But I don’t remember…” Peter started.

“You wouldn’t, that was the beauty of this whole plan concocted by our enemies,” Claudia told him, voice sharp, “We’ll get you your memories back, all of you” her eyes flickered from Peter to Chris and then landed on Derek “But we don’t have much time” her voice went softer as Stiles tightened his grip on her hand.


	2. I wish we had more time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia and Talia confuse each other's sons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Claudia squeezed back tightly, then carefully extricated her hand from Stiles’ and stepped away from John. Her gaze was fixed on Derek, and the young alpha was not ashamed to say that he found the woman intimidating not in the least because she was Stiles’ mother. Then Claudia stepped forward to gather him into an embrace that felt familiar down in his bones although he couldn’t remember having ever met her before, even when Stiles was young. His face contorted into a frown as he tried to recall how his wolf recognized Claudia, but his own mind couldn’t. She stepped away then, smoothing his frown lines away with a sweet smile “Don’t be such a sourwolf, Der. I promise, it’ll make sense soon.” 

A bark of laughter from Peter followed her words. Her eyes lifted to meet his, a question in them. “So, it’s genetic, the nicknames then?” he asked. Looking over at Stiles who was watching his mother in surprise and happiness. 

“I suppose so.”

“Oh, I don’t suppose a damn thing. It’s definitely genetic” snarked Robert Hale who laughed at the look Claudia threw him. 

Talia stood next to Stiles, watching her best friend and emissary thoroughly confuse her son and his pack. She placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, gently catching the young man’s attention. He quirked his eyes at her, then tipped his head respectfully. Talia grinned “I wish we’d been able to watch you grow up,” she murmured quietly, her words meant for Stiles only “We had so many things we never got to show you, but somehow you’ve grown up just like your mother, fierce and loyal.”

Stiles blushed under the weight of Talia’s words, but the former alpha would not let him look away, instead she tilted his chin up to keep their eyes connected. 

“You’ll be even greater than her, Stiles. Thank you for helping to protect us.”

The teen didn’t know what to say, so he nodded. He had the feeling that refusing a compliment from Talia would not go over well. 

Then he caught Derek’s eyes, and both of them were so confused about the actions of their respective mothers that it showed on their faces. 

Claudia turned to Talia, a sparkle in her eyes “I was right.”

Talia dropped Stiles’ chin, and after running a hand over his back stepped forward rolling her eyes as she did so. “I never said you were wrong, for the record, just that you might be incorrect. I really should have learned not to bet against a Stilinski by now.”

John chuckled at that “It’s one of the first things I learned.”

Talia grinned at him warmly “I wish we had more time. I’m sure you developed some Stilinski survival skills I never did.”

“I come back from the grave to find my werewolf best friend and my Sheriff (congratulations by the way, honey) husband ganging up on me, lovely” teased Claudia as she flitted from Derek to Peter, smoothing the wolf’s hair, and cupping Chris’ cheek. She passed a hand over each beta, on their shoulder or their back, comfort covering them. She kissed Graham and Lera on both cheeks, thanking them for checking up on Beacon Hills and waving away their apologies. Both of them returned the gesture of greeting before ducking away from the main group, calling out quiet goodbyes. They vanished with a snap of Lera’s fingers, but not before both beings sent Stiles a meaningful glance that said ‘We’ll be in touch.’

When she reached Scott and Melissa she hugged Scott, whispering “Take care of him. Take care of yourself” as she let go of him. Then she turned to Melissa, her other best friend and saw the hesitance in the woman’s eyes. Claudia wouldn’t let that stand so she pulled Mel into a tight hug “You’ll be good together” a voice said quietly in Melissa’s head as they hugged. Her surprise kept her from panicking “Relax, Mel. It’s just me. And I mean it. Once you and John have forgiven yourselves for the past, it’ll be good.” Claudia’s voice bowed out of her mind as she let go, Melissa in shock at Claudia’s words and the implications behind them.

“Stop stirring up shit, Stilinski!” Talia called out to her friend. 

“Pretty sure that’s part of my DNA too!” she called back, but she went back to alpha and stood at her side proudly facing the new Hale pack, with Laura and Robert one either side of them.

“Do you have to go?” Surprisingly, it wasn’t Stiles or even Derek who asked the question, but Peter who looked young and vulnerable in the moment. 

“I’m afraid so, brother. We were only able to be her by the grace of the goddess who took a liking to Jinx when she was alive.”

Claudia blushed “I have no idea how that always happens to me.”

“She granted us a visit, one, a reprieve to help, not hinder. This is it, but dreams are still our playground, you needn’t look so sad, Pete” Talia spoke softly.

“Once we leave a cottage will appear, since I’ve passed my power along to you, Mischief. The answers you seek will be found there.”

“Promise?” Stiles asked her, his voice tight with emotion.

“This is my oath to you, Mischief. I do so promise that my words are true.” The clearing shimmered as she made her magical oath to her son. 

Then Claudia swept her hair up off her neck, exposing a triskelion tattoo below her hairline, and chanted words in what Stiles would bet money on was Archaic Latin. The tattoo glowed red, then gold, and finally, purple. Talia, Robert, Laura, and Claudia held hands as the emissary’s chanting grew more melodious and louder, then as the tattoo crackled with something like lightning they suddenly vanished leaving the Hale pack alone in the clearing.


	3. We got our memories back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cottage Claudia spoke of appears, and Chris, Peter, & Derek get their memories back. There is a library and a collection of home movies too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the song: Friendzone (a.k.a Best Friend Love) nor do I own Teen Wolf.

The ground started to shake the moment the spirits vanished, at least that’s what Chris thought was happening. Except Allison seemed completely steady on her feet as she rushed to his side. He found his feet unsteady underneath him and knelt to the ground, vaguely aware that both Peter and Derek were in similar states to him, and then a sharp pain arced up from the base of his spine into his head causing him to gasp out and stumble back only to find himself prevented from splaying on the ground by a roughly hewn stone wall. 

Allison took a step back in shock. 

“That wasn’t there before, right?” croaked out Chris as the pounding in his head began to recede just as quickly as it had appeared. Suddenly, a hand on his arm appeared and the last of his pain melted away as Peter drained it from him. As Chris met Peter’s eyes he was struck by a flood of memories, of everything from before. He swallowed thickly, unsure how to process all of it. Peter just gave him a half-smile, showing the hunter he was just as affected, and offered Chris a hand to pull him upright. 

Derek was gazing at the cottage, awe in his eyes, his lashes wet with unshed tears. 

“It’s a beautiful design,” Chris murmured to the young alpha, “You have a knack for it.”

Design inspiration: * https://www.pinterest.ie/pin/143552306854836148/ *

“I can’t believe… She…” Derek was seemingly unable to form sentences. 

“What just happened?” Stiles’ confused voice broke the spell the three men seemed to be under. 

“We… we got our memories back,” Peter responded, “from when your mom was emissary.”

Amazement and hope curled around Stiles in a heady perfume that Peter and Derek both smiled at, Stiles looked so much like Claudia when she’d perfected a new spell in that moment. 

“You knew her? I mean, I figured with earlier, but…all three of you?”

Chris, Derek, and Peter nodded, sad and gentle smiles on their faces. 

“So, this is hers? The cottage its Claudia’s?” John asked, tentatively, unsure of how he felt knowing that the three men in front of him now knew things about his wife that he hadn’t. Although, honestly it appeared like he really hadn’t known her that well given the whole magic thing. 

Peter nodded “She used one of Derek’s designs, but she never let us see it except in pictures. She wanted a final grand reveal” Peter’s face closed off slightly “She wanted to live here with you” he looked at John “That was the plan at least.”

Stiles stepped forward to get a better look at the cottage, bringing himself level with Derek. “It really is beautiful, Der.”

The alpha chuckled, blushing slightly “I never knew… she just asked for one of my drawings” he trailed off looking a bit uncomfortable. 

Stiles wouldn’t let that continue, even for a moment, he stepped closer to his alpha, tentatively brushing their shoulders. “I don’t mind, Derek. I wouldn’t have ever wanted to be deprived of memories of her either. You, your family, you were obviously important to her” Derek let the tension in his body drain out. He’d been afraid that Stiles would be jealous or angry with him, but he should have known that the teen would never be anything more than accepting. 

“I can tell you stories, if you want to hear them.” Derek made the offer before fully thinking it through, but the delight that enveloped Stiles at his words made him unable to regret them. 

Stiles just nodded, with his whole body. Then the teen took a step forward toward the door. Derek followed close behind him. The rest of the pack following suit, Chris and Peter brushing shoulders and watching everyone pile through the door before following them.

The cottage was the perfect blend of cozy and eclectic that Peter had learned to expect from Claudia over the years he’d known her. Most of the pack had paused in the kitchen, marveling at how nothing was dusty and basically seemed like it was waiting for an occupant. Lydia and Stiles had broken off from the group to investigate a door off of the living room. Peter had no doubt that it was the library and so he followed the two teens, surprised by Allison padding along after him, but she only grinned at him. 

The library was gorgeous and seemingly endless. “How?” Allison breathed out as she stepped into the room that looked to be at least as long and wide as the Trinity College Library in Dublin.

“Magic.” Lydia replied from near a shelf of well-worn leather books. 

“I love magic,” Allison responded, drawing a quiet laugh from Stiles who was on her other side, fingers sliding lovingly over a journal if the awkwardly shaped pages and binding were anything to go by. 

“Clau always kept a whole damn library with her in her backpack when we were at school together,” Peter said, offhandedly “I’m not at all surprised that she made her library this large.”

“So, you went to school together?” Melissa’s voice hesitant but curious came from the open door. 

“I suppose it would be appropriate to field questions now,” Peter said, although his eyes were raking over the spines of the books in curiosity. 

“I think it’s only fair,” Lydia told him, turning away from the bookshelves, gently tugging Stiles and the journal out the door despite the teen’s obvious desire to never leave. 

Peter and Allison followed after them, Melissa behind them. 

The rest of the pack was settled in the living room. Well, the wolves were. They knew somehow that this place was safe for them and that Derek was more relaxed here than they had ever seen him before also helped a great deal. John seemed both curious and on edge, which Peter didn’t blame him for; there was a lot he himself didn’t understand. 

The focal point of the living room was a large fireplace and a television mounted on the wall, older than what most of the pack was used to of course, but the tv gave Peter pause. He then crossed to the entertainment unit and knelt down, opening it to find stacks of DVDs all neatly labelled by his own careful hand years ago. 

“That might be the best way to start this,” Derek told his uncle, gesturing at the disks. 

“Maybe after some actual talking, yeah,” Chris interjected. 

“Is someone going to explain what is going on?” John asked, frustration and a hint of anxiety in his scent. 

“You might want to sit down, Sheriff” Chris told the other man, who begrudgingly took a seat after looking like he wanted to argue with the hunter. Stiles moved from where he and Lydia were seated to join his father on one of the couches in the room, curling up under John’s arm, forcing his father to calm down and comfort him at the same time. 

“I don’t really know how to start this,” confessed Chris after a moment of silence.

“When did Stiles’ mom meet you?” Erica asked, nodding her head at Peter. 

“I suppose that’s as good a starting place as any,” the wolf, rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again to look out at his pack, Derek’s pack and smiled. 

“Claudia met Talia under less than ideal circumstances,”

“Meaning?” Melissa queried. 

“She was possessed.” Peter responded, voice quiet.

“What?” Stiles’ fear swept quickly over them all.

Peter, without really thinking went over to rest a reassuring hand on the teen’s knee, then giving in to his instincts to protect and comfort pack settled on the other side of the teen much to John’s surprise. Derek came to settle on the floor, the carpet was a plush moss green, so that he could watch over his pack as they heard this story. Scott, Allison, and Chris took up another couch. 

“That creature from earlier the nogitsune. It had possessed her. Her uh… family” the word sounded like a curse on Peter’s tongue “cast her out when it happened. No one survives nogitsune possession, at least not until Claudia.”

“From what she told us upon meeting Talia, in a darkened alley one night she’d tried to goad her into biting her convinced that changing the fox spirit was the only thing that could free her,” Chris picked up the thread of Peter’s story “It would either cure her or kill her, and at that moment she wouldn’t have really cared either way. Her possession wasn’t complete though, she could still appear as herself for brief moments after fighting with the demon.”

“She explained herself to Talia and without batting an eye my sister did it. Then, she took her back to her dorm and let this random, recently possessed woman sleep in her bed. We fought about it, because I was in town that weekend too, but she wouldn’t budge on it.” Peter rolled his eyes “They say that alphas have a sense about their emissaries sometimes, like with a true mate, so Tal used to say that that was what guided her that night.”

“I think there was just something about Claudia she couldn’t figure out” Chris tossed out “But the next morning, Claudia was gone. She probably would have skipped town, except well,” Chris flexed his hand then curled it into a fist “we ran into each other. I knew her family so I kind of expected her to be dead.”

“She told me that she and her family didn’t see eye to eye on a lot,” John volunteered. 

“Understatement of the century,” Peter told him.

“If you think my family are bad,” Chris said, “The Crowes were worse” at the confused looks he received the hunter clarified “She kept her mom’s last name when they died; Jeffrey Crowe wasn’t exactly the kind of person to win any humanitarian awards. He never even pretended to have a code. Whispers in the community said he murdered his wife, Helena, when she and Claudia tried to leave. Claudia was there for all of it.”  
“How… how did you know each other then?” Allison’s voice was small as she asked her question. 

“We’d met on a few hunts, crossed paths. Nothing big. Her older brother, Matthew, was a copy of her father and he got along well with certain members of the Argent clan, you can imagine. But we’d all been informed that she’d been possessed, set up for it most likely by her father and brother. Still, she was supposed to be dead or…” he trailed off.

“Killed on sight?” Isaac asked the hunter, filling in the words the man did not want to say. 

“But you didn’t, obviously, so what happened?” Erica pressed, intrigued. 

“She offered herself up,” Chris winced at the memory, “What you need to know is that the nogitsune, it feeds off of chaos and fear. Off of strife. Even if they didn’t love her, Claudia cared for and protected her family as best she could – so upon her possession well, the demon it made her do what would cause her the most damage.”

“She killed them?” Scott’s voice was shocked.

“No, the demon inside of her killed them, but it made sure she saw, felt, and experienced everything it did,” Peter corrected the young beta. 

“But, then it wasn’t her fault! Why would she offer her life up to another hunter?” Scott pushed.

“She felt guilty,” it was Stiles who spoke, eyes a bit unfocused, “You can tell people things until you run out of breath Scotty, but some stuff you just can’t or won’t believe.” John and Scott shared a look, both of them thinking about how this was probably unintentionally revealed insight into Stiles’ mindset at the moment. 

“But there was something about her that didn’t seem right, or I should say, wrong. I wouldn’t shoot her and then she laughed. I remember thinking that maybe I’d made a mistake and then she looked at me head on and her eyes flashed purple,” Chris continued his story “I wanted to be scared, honestly, but there was just something about her that calmed me. She told me a werewolf had saved her, and that now she should probably go back because the alpha would be worried. She set off down road, then told me to follow her, and I have no idea why I did, but I followed her.”

“You weren’t the only one to do things without questioning them. See like the next eight years of my life,” Peter huffed, “That’s when we first met.” He looked up at the hunter, who smiled softly at him.

“Uh, yeah, I want to know about that,” Allison interjected, causing her dad to blush, “If you two were together why’d you marry Victoria?”

Peter looked at the young huntress with surprise and a hint of fondness, “After we lost our memories we couldn’t remember what was keeping us together, especially considering our situation as werewolf and hunter. We wrote it off as youthful stupidity or something,” he murmured at the end of his sentence.

“Claudia was the one to introduce us, which is probably why our relationship was fuzzy,” Chris continued, “She was also helping me to plan and leave the Argents behind” the hunter revealed to his pack. 

“Really?” Allison asked.

“She had contacts all over the hunting community, the real community. She didn’t deal with mercenaries, but real honest to goodness good people who also hunt. She showed me that the world I was raised in didn’t have to be all bad… I’d always wondered about that gap of time in my memory. But then my father sucked me back in and then I found myself married to Victoria, and really, I didn’t question anything,” Chris shook his head angrily. Allison took his hand, squeezing tightly. 

“None of us did,” Peter reassured Chris, “Moon, we woke up one day and found ourselves here, without an emissary until Deaton stepped forward!”

“Deaton was your emissary?” Isaac wrinkled his nose.

“Not a fan?” Derek asked.

His betas shook their heads, “Neither was I. It was like I could remember having a different emissary energy around the pack, but I didn’t know who it was.”

“How does that happen?” Boyd posed the question all of them had been thinking, “Could any one of us just be erased like that?”

Peter shook his head at the beta “Alpha’s have the ability to see or take memories from their pack members when the situation calls for it, but I can’t imagine Talia ever doing that. She knew that if there was one thing in this world that Clau protected even more fiercely than the pack it was her control of her own mind. After the nogitsune, she feared ever losing control like that again. She got an anti-possession tattoo and everything…”

“But then how was it able to re-possess her?” Chris mused. 

“I’m guessing her journals will give us that insight, because I have no idea,” Peter replied. 

“I never met any of you though,” John spoke “If you were so close, why didn’t I ever meet you?”

“That’s a Spark thing,” Peter told the Sheriff, “People they love and trust, they’ll do anything for, but they have to be careful to. If a Spark invests time and energy into a relationship that crumbles they feel it more intensely than regular humans. She wanted to keep all of us from bonding with you as pack until she was sure about you, and then she wanted to get settled in Beacon Hills before springing everything on you.”

John opened his mouth as a memory floated to the front of his mind. 

“She tried to tell you a few times, yeah,” Chris cut him off, “When it didn’t pan out the first few times she decided to wait.”

John felt like his heart was breaking. He hadn’t believed. He hadn’t believed Claudia, just like he had almost not believed Stiles. He tightened his grip on his son’s shoulder, tugging him closer. 

“What’re those?” Lydia asked then, pointing at the DVDs Peter had revealed earlier. 

“Peter used to be quite the avid director. He filmed everything, all the time” he paused, “I would have thought they’d all have burned in the fire though.”

“I think she took some things, even if she wasn’t sure who we were near the end she knew that there were important things she needed to save,” Peter replied, “I saw some of your Dad’s books in the library. I think we might not be as research resource poor as we thought.”

“Can we watch one?” Erica asked, excitedly. 

Peter looked at Chris, who shrugged. Both looked to Derek who in turn quirked an eyebrow at Stiles and John. Both Stilinski men nodded, slowly. Peter slipped from the couch to flick through the collection of DVDs. He decided that they all probably needed something light, so he pulled a particular disk out and inserted it into the machine. 

The moment the camera focused Chris found himself barking out a laugh. He remembered this night, they’d all gone out for dinner to celebrate the one year anniversary of Claudia and Talia meeting. Talia had asked her friend how she defined their friendship and Claudia had jumped up to grab her guitar. The same guitar that currently collected dust in the Stilinski’s attic. Chris had taught the young woman to play, bonding over a skill neither of the werewolves could master despite being super talented supernatural creatures. 

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In the video:

“Should I be afraid of what you’ve gone to get, Clau?” Talia called after her friend, then she turned back to find Peter filming and Chris grinning at her, “If you come out with glitter or something I will end you, Stilinski!”  
“Come on, Tal! That was so last week!” Claudia called back, smiling sweetly as she returned with her guitar, “Maybe I won’t give you your friend-iversary present after all.”

Talia fixed her friend with a look that made the other young woman giggle and she settled down, facing Talia, Peter, and Chris as she started to strum.

Marielle Maxwell – ‘Friendzone’  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-t7q_Eyl2s 

“I know there's lots of kind of love in the world  
And they're not all romantic  
And not all for boys and girls

But what we have doesn't have certain definition  
'Cause I love you just as much I hate my college tuition  
And that we're basically like dating  
Without all the romance  
Don't get me wrong I think you're pretty  
But I don't want in your pants

It's just that I'm in best friend love with you  
So I wrote this song for you  
And I know you think it's weird, it's true  
But I’m in best friend love with you

And I think we should go all the way  
In the 100% friendzone way

And I can’t get you out of my heard  
And as long we're in separate beds  
I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you  
Like maybe we would work out if we were single and were gay  
But what I’m really trying to say is  
I don’t love you like Shang loves Mulan  
You’re more like the Robin Hood to my little John  
And I love you like auto tune loves t-pain  
Like a prostitute love crack cocaine  
I love you like batman wishes his parents hadn’t died  
Like Anne frank wanted to fuckin' go outside

You’re more than my best friend  
You’re my partner in crime  
That I’d never ever make out with except for that one time

And I know you think it’s weird, it’s true  
But I’m in best friend love with you

And I think we should go all the way  
In the 100% friendzone way

And I can’t get you out of my head  
And as long as were in separate beds  
I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you

Whoa- oh

Best friend love  
Best friend love

Don’t need no love glove with best friend love.”

The camera was shaking as Peter laughed at the look on Talia’s face, which was so affectionate and fond. Claudia blushed then squawked as the young alpha launched herself at her best friend, tackling her in a hug. The video ended there as presumably Peter and Chris joined the impending puppy pile. 

tw-----tw------tw----tw-----tw------tw----tw-----tw------tw----tw-----tw------tw----tw----tw---tw

“That was so adorable!” Allison exclaimed, eyes shining with happiness as she looked back at the pack. It seemed they were all in agreement. 

“Seems like your mom knew the best superheroes too, Batman,” Erica called over to Stiles who grinned brightly back at her. 

“She sure did, Catwoman.”

“Can we watch another one?” Scott asked the room at large. Peter nodded and set about selecting another one, maybe Claudia’s first birthday with the pack, that had been memorable.


	4. The Feeling’s Mutual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles uses some magic. The pack eats dinner at the cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

They watched at least seven videos, some longer than others, before Isaac’s stomach rumbled and it was like a spell had been broken. “We should eat,” Derek commented, although no one seemed in the mood to move. 

Stiles wished that there was the possibility that the beautiful kitchen his mother had decorated would have food in it. The moment he thought about it he felt a brief tug on what he was learning was his magic; he let the magic flow briefly, then clenched his fist, cutting it off.

“Stiles?” Peter asked from the teen’s other side “Your eyes…”

“were purple for a moment” John finished for the older werewolf. 

Erica had gotten up on the off chance that there was something consumable in the kitchen cupboards and surprisingly exclaimed as she found food, and not just crumbs but real, honest to goodness food stashed away.

“Uh, guys? Food just appeared in here!” Erica called back to the living room.

“Thanks Stiles,” Derek said, pushing himself up off the ground and following Erica’s voice. 

“I did that?” Stiles asked, looking at Peter with wide eyes.

“That you did, pup,” Peter patted him on the head and then got up off the couch, Stiles following him, leaving his dad on the couch as most of the pack headed toward the kitchen, which wasn’t far from the living room. 

John could hear Chris and Stiles playfully arguing about some type of pasta sauce or other. It seemed like the two of them would be making dinner for the pack. A hand on his shoulder caught his attention “Sheriff, are you coming?” It was Scott, not who John would have anticipated would stay back to check on him, but he appreciated it. It had been tough to see Claudia that way, young, magical, happy, and know that he hadn’t been able to know her like that. But it was good for Stiles, he could tell, so John would be there for his son even if it was hard on him.

“I’ll be right there, Scott.”

Scott nodded and then walked into the kitchen. 

John took a deep breath, then turned to follow the teen when Stiles appeared, Scott clapping his friend on the shoulder before heading onward. “Dad? You okay?” Stiles’ voice was quiet and soft.

“Yeah, kid.” Stiles fixed him with a look that told his father he didn’t believe him.

“It’s tough, seeing her isn’t it?” John nodded, not trusting his voice.

“But now we have more people with memories… I think it might be good for us. To remember her…”

John smiled, “You know Mica, I think you’re right.” He hugged Stiles then they both headed into the kitchen where Allison, Peter, and Erica were chopping tomatoes, Chris was setting water to boil in several large pots, Boyd and Isaac were shredding herbs, Scott and Derek cutting up mushrooms, and Melissa watched over everyone with a critical eye. 

John looked at the assembled pack and felt something warm and comforting burn in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this, like being part of a family since Claudia had passed, yet somehow, she had given him one again. Even from death his wife was keeping him safe and happy. 

Stiles pushed him over to sit with Melissa since they weren’t making one of the three things he could cook, so he sat down to watch his son and Chris start assembling dinner for their new family. Derek set down his knife for a moment, catching the Sheriff’s eye, placing a hand over his heart “That’s a pack bond” the alpha told the older man. 

“You too?” Melissa asked John in surprise. 

“Well, then we’re a trio tonight” Chris commented, lightly touching his chest. 

“What does it do?” John asked.

“It connects you to the pack through the alpha,” Stiles responded, “It means that you’ve both accepted being part of the pack.”

“It can also help us find you. That’s how I knew where Stiles was earlier,” Derek interjected.

“I was wondering about that,” Stiles said casually. 

“Are we going to address those two council members too? Because that woman” 

“Lera” Stiles interrupted Lydia.

“That woman… Lera seemed quite determined that you go away with them to train.”

Stiles shrugged, “I told them I couldn’t leave right now so that’s go with that for now, okay?”

“You’re planning to go?” Lydia accused Stiles, brandishing a whisk at him. Stiles ducked the kitchen utensil and slowly pried it from Lydia’s hands “I’ll do whatever I can to help the pack, Lyds, and if that means going away for a bit, well, I’ll make it for as short a time as possible.”

The kitchen went quiet as Stiles turned to stir the sauce, unaware that everyone was watching him. As the silence progressed he glanced over his shoulder, eyes catching on his dad’s face. “Nothing has been decided guys, okay? It’ll be fine. I won’t leave unless I have to, you know that…” the ‘don’t you?’ was left unsaid. 

“Of course, we do” Boyd murmured, nudged Stiles with his hip.

“It might be good for you though,” Lydia posited, glaring at Scott when he whined at her words. 

Stiles shrugged again, obviously uncomfortable with all of the attention on him. 

“We never met Lera or Graham,” Chris interjected, taking the pack’s attention away from Stiles. 

“And they’re secretive. You said you tracked them down through research… how?” Peter asked Stiles tossing a lemon from hand to hand as he spoke. Chris snatched the lemon away from Peter who only smiled at the other man.

“Give the boy some peace,” Chris said, “Why don’t we switch topics for a bit, huh? Go for something lighter?”

John wished he’d been the one to suggest it, but to be honest he was concerned about Stiles and he’d let his desire to know something about his son override his need to protect him. He needed to work on that. 

“How about that chemistry test tomorrow?” Stiles remarked, his comment met with groans from those who shared Harris’ class with him.

“I swear Harris actually hates teaching, teenagers, education, and chemistry,” Lydia said, tossing her hair back. 

“Honestly, I have no idea if I’ve learned anything all year,” Allison agreed.

“It has only been a few months,” Isaac reminded her.

“I feel like I should know something new by now,” Allison countered him.

Isaac nodded in agreement. The younger pack members kept up a conversation about school until the food was ready to be served, the only ones who didn’t contribute were Boyd and Stiles. John watched Stiles closely as he and Chris finished up the food. He looked drained, tired, and all of a sudden Derek, who’d sent the rest of the pack to set the table came up behind Stiles, whispering to the young man who shook his head at the alpha. Derek murmured Stiles’ name, but the teen stepped back, putting up his hands, obviously telling the alpha he was fine. Derek brought a hand up to Stiles’ temple, hand hesitating when the teen rolled his eyes then titled his head to the side. Black veins of pain ran up Derek’s arm for a brief moment and then Stiles stepped back, “I don’t need to be groggy when I’m carrying food, alpha,” Stiles told Derek and ducked away, grabbing a bowl of salad on his way to the less formal dining room the pack had located. 

Derek’s eyebrows knit together as he watched Stiles walk away. John came over to Derek, “He’s exhausted,” Derek murmured, “and that isn’t a minor headache he’s dealing with right now either. But he won’t take time off you know.”  
“At least it’s almost Friday,” John replied, “I’ll try to keep him home or maybe here, but I want him to rest.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Sheriff.”

“John, you’re officially my alpha according to this” he tapped his chest, “So call me John, Derek.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Derek returned and then he headed off to the dining room with John next to him.


	5. Try and stop me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his dad are on their way back from the cottage when Stiles has a nightmare, or is it just his future reality?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf 
> 
> Have a change of pace, here's some angst because apparently, I cannot write the things I want to write without first writing angsty stuff about Stiles and Co.

Stiles’ fingers tapped at his keys as his eyes stared past the screen. It was already midnight, but he wasn’t finished his research for the pack. If only he hadn’t taken time to finish his essay for English, but he still wanted to get into college on at least a partial scholarship. He wanted to take some of that burden from his dad. His dad had never anticipated doing this on his own the least Stiles could do was help along the way. 

It had nothing to do with wanting to make his dad proud of him, no, nothing at all with that. Of course, it wouldn’t hurt to hear his dad say those words to him. He couldn’t recall the last time they’d had a proper conversation that hadn’t ended with him breaking down in some form or another, but of course that was due to Stiles too. He was the one who’d pushed his dad away. 

And now Stiles had lost his thread of thought, his fingers hovering over the keys instead of tapping away. He had lost his train of thought and now he would be missing something. He couldn’t miss something, missing something could get someone killed. And if that happened it would be his fault. Stiles couldn’t let that happen. 

He curled his fingers in toward his palms, feeling the nails digs into the soft skin and relishing the pinpricks of pain. He deserved it. He deserved it all. He took a breath and then refocused on his screen, eyes squinting slightly as he tried to make out the words he’d been typing. He couldn’t read them. 

The words, they weren’t words. They were symbols. He squeezed his eyes tightly and then opened them again, but the symbols were still there. He shoved himself away from his desk, and got up, pacing. He knew logically that you couldn’t read in dreams, but this couldn’t be a dream. This was his life. His life ever since he’d dragged Scott out into that damn forest. Ever since he’d set in motion a series of events he would spend the rest of his life making up for, on top of everything else he felt responsible for already. 

He glanced down at his hands now, but his vision was blurry, just enough to never let him get a clear look at his fingers. Shrugging the symbols off as fatigue, Stile went to his bedroom door and decided to go make coffee. He would be up regardless so he figured he might as well be caffeinated. 

He paused when he heard voices in the kitchen though, wrapping his Spark around himself to muffle his movements – when had he learned to do that? – he crept downstairs. He could hear Melissa’s voice, Scott’s too. His dad’s gruff tone and Derek’s answering rumble were present too. Curious as to what they could be discussing Stiles crept forward, listening. 

“Look I think it’s pretty clear that he needs to go,” Melissa said, her tone brooked no argument, “It sounds like it’ll be safer for all of us, but the problem is him wanting to come back.”

“He’ll try to come home as fast as possible, I’m just not sure I can handle that right now,” his dad’s voice sounded tired, so tired that it broke Stiles’ heart. This is what he had been trying to avoid. He had refused to involve his dad with the supernatural for as long as possible in order to avoid the inevitable fallout. 

“I know he’ll think it’s for the best, and all, but I think you two are right,” Derek commented, “The trouble is getting Stiles to see that.”

“That woman today, Lena or whatever, she said that his mom wanted him to go train with them…” Scott spoke up, “Maybe if we leaned on that?”

“That’d probably do that trick,” Derek conceded, “What do you think, John?” 

“I think if Claudia would have been able to have a last wish it would have been just that, to get him out of here. I’ll tell him in the morning. I’ll pack some stuff now.”

Chairs scraped on the kitchen floor and Stiles pushed himself into the shadows, feeling his spark wrap around him, silencing his breathing, his heartbeat, and hiding him from his packmates as they made their way to the front door. 

Melissa and Scott let first, his dad hugging both of them, and Stiles couldn’t help a shiver of jealousy at the easy way his dad invited the McCalls into his space. Stiles didn’t deserve that, not anymore, if he ever had. 

Derek hung back for a moment. 

“I should have sent him away when he was younger, maybe if he hadn’t been here I wouldn’t have grieved so much,” his dad told the alpha, who offered the Sheriff a comforting hand on the shoulder, “He really creates messes, lord, he tries, but,” his dad shook his head. 

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Derek remarked. The Sheriff laughed hollowly. 

“That it is, and I’m just grateful Claudia isn’t alive to see the hell our lives have turned into. And Stiles, god, he tries, but he brings it all on tenfold.”

“I know, that’s why I figured I’d tell him to come stay at the loft… get him out of your hair for a bit and just slowly start hinting that he would serve us all better if he stepped away,” Derek ran a hand through his hair, “I guess after everything with the cottage and Claudia we just need to step up our timeline.”

“I agree with you, son,” John clapped Derek on the back, “I’ll be by the loft once I explain things to Stiles.”

“You’re always welcome, John,” Derek replied. 

His dad nodded, “Thanks, son.”  
Stiles’ heart clenched, because Derek deserved that, someone to call him ‘son’ and someone to protect. But Stiles couldn’t help his jealousy. His dad wanted him gone though, and so did the rest of the pack from the sounds of it. Well, if it would make things easier on them he would go. 

He snuck back upstairs, his spark keeping him almost undetectable and started to pack. He pulled clothes out of drawers, too distracted by his desire to pack and leave before his dad came to wake him up in several hours to notice that each of his hands had six fingers. Only once his two bags were packed, stowed in his jeep, and he was on his way out of town did he realize his vision had unblurred and his six fingers tapped against the wheel. He tipped his head, but this couldn’t be a nightmare he decided, it was real life. 

His mind was playing tricks on him. As he drove past the ‘You are now leaving Beacon Hills’ sign he thought he heard someone calling his name. Then a fox suddenly appeared on the road in front of him. He slammed on his brakes, the road was quiet, and the fox just sat there. Weighing his options, Stiles exited the jeep and walked over to the fox cautiously, then his mother stood in front of him exactly where the fox had been sitting. “Oh Mischief, it’s time to wake up,” she told him, her hand reaching out to cup his chin, “Wake up, now.”

The first thing Stiles noticed was that he was in the jeep, but he wasn’t driving. In fact, they weren’t even moving. They were parked in the driveway in front of their house and his dad had one hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him, “Mica, we’re home. It’s time to wake up.”

Stiles jerked to attention. It had been a dream. Or had it. He pulled away from his dad’s hand, stretching out his fingers in front of him, counting them off. Five. Five. Five on each hand. 

“Mica?” His dad’s voice is hesitant.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say exactly, because it wasn’t a nightmare, not in the traditional sense. It just felt like a natural conclusion to what had happened over the past few days.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said, tucking his hands into his pockets and opening his door to exit the jeep. He walked to the front door, his dad close behind him, watching him. 

As he made to go upstairs though, his dad stopped him, “Mica, you were talking in your sleep.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles was tired, he didn’t want to do this. Their day had ended up better than he’d hoped, but now, he’d brought his issues into it again and now his dad was worried. 

“You said something about going away, making it easier for us,” his dad tugged on his shirt, bringing Stiles down a step and toward him, “I don’t want you to go anywhere, Mischief.”

Stiles tucked himself into the hug on auto-pilot, “So you won’t send me away?” He knew he sounded pitiful but he really needed to hear his dad say the words. 

“Try and stop me from keeping you here, Mica, try and stop me,” he murmured, clutching his son closer.


	6. It wasn't a pretty story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a dream about Claudia. Stiles reads Claudia's journal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf

John stayed in Stiles’ room until the teen fell asleep, and even then he didn’t particularly want to move from his son’s desk chair. He wanted to sit and watch over his son. The buzzing of his phone was what eventually made him leave. 

“Derek, is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, John. I just thought what with everything that happened today…”

“Son, breathe,” John soothed Derek, keeping his voice calm and low. 

“I know you wanted to have a sit down with me and Peter and I thought maybe, tomorrow night we could talk?”

John thought about it. The next day was Friday, and he really did want Stiles in for the night if possible. “Do you mind if I get back to you?”

He could tell that Derek was a little anxious about his response so he clarified “I just want to pass it by Stiles.” Derek let out a light chuckle.

“Yeah, of course. We’re both around tomorrow so just let us know when you know.”

“Thanks for calling, Derek.”

“Is he okay?” Derek asked.

“To be honest, I don’t think he has been okay in years…” John sighed, leaning back against the wall in the hallway “He had a… he didn’t call it a nightmare, but he thinks we want him to leave. So, that’s what you’re getting into if you come over tomorrow.”

“Understood,” Derek replied, then he paused “You should sleep, John.”

“Is this an alpha thing? John muttered, knocking his head back against the wall. 

He heard another soft chuckle “You sound like Stiles,” Derek said, “And the short answer to that question is – yes.”

“Fine,” John replied, taking a deep breath and letting it out, he said goodbye to the alpha and turned to walk toward his room. He was too tired to do much more than crawl into his bed, still in his clothes, and he fell asleep quickly.

**  
John’s dreams were full of darkness and Stiles crying out for him, but he couldn’t see his son, let alone help him. Just as the darkness seemed to attempt to squeeze the life out of him his dreamscape shifted, bringing him back to the clearing and the cottage from earlier that day. Claudia was there.

Her back was to him, but he knew it was her. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” the words tumbled out of John’s mouth before he’d even decided how to express his emotions. 

“It’s as much my fault as it is yours, John.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” John replied, walking forward, stopping just an arm’s length away from Claudia. 

“How is it that you believe that so firmly but…” she trailed off.

“But I didn’t believe you?” John guessed, “I’m not sure. But I do believe. I believe you. I believe him.”

Claudia turned then, a soft smile on her face “Tell him that, as often as you can.” She reached out, but did not touch him “I hurt you both so much and I’m sorry, John.”

“Oh, Clau, losing you hurt us, but you didn’t hurt us. At least not the you we knew and love.”

“There’s more, more that he has to tell you. It was so bad, for so long. The journals, mine – they’re for you and Mischief only, at least until you’ve read them. Then they’re yours to do with what you will. They’ll explain. I never meant for this to happen.”

“I know, Clau.”

“Sleep now, love, you need to rest,” she stepped into his space and pressed a kiss to his cheek before everything started to blur and he went back to sleeping, though this time his slumber was undisturbed by fear.

**  
Stiles woke up early, and figured it must still be the middle of the night. 

3:00am 

That was what his alarm clock told him. Instead of trying to go back to sleep he got up and walked over to his desk, pausing for a moment to listen to the house, but he realized his dad must be asleep still. With that sorted he pulled out the journal he’d lifted from the cottage that afternoon and turning on his desk lamp he began to read. 

It was not a pretty story. 

On impulse he’d grabbed the last book, the one that his mom would have written in near the end. 

It was awful. 

He’d been reading for an hour when he realized that the wet spots on the page were from his own tears. His mother’s furious struggle for her own mind was detailed with frenzied accuracy within the pages and how she’d turned in on herself when she’d come back to herself after hurting him. Her guilt coated the pages. He felt like he could see the tears that had once coated the journal’s pages and now he was mirroring her sacrifice of salt water, tying them together even more. 

When he reached the end, his hands started to shake immediately and he began to breathe quickly, trying and ultimately failing to get a handle on everything he had just read. He pushed himself away from the desk and settled into a corner of the room, ducking his head and bringing his knees up, blocking out the rest of the world. He pulled his body in tight and tried to breathe normally. 

Eventually, it happened, just as his breathing evened out a knock sounded at his door. It was 6:00 already and then suddenly his dad was there, in front of him, still in yesterday’s uniform. 

“Dad?” Stiles croaked out, confused. His voice was scratchy from crying for hours and his panic attack.

“Mica, are you okay?”

“Why?” Stiles titled his head and John couldn’t help the soft smile that escaped and overtook his worry.  
“You’re on the floor, for one.” 

“Panic attack,” Stiles replied casually, then pushed himself up the wall and then away from it. 

The worry returned to John’s face.

“S’okay, I’m good now,” Stiles told his dad, patting him on the arm in an attempt to reassure him.

“What happened?” John took a step closer “You look like you slept for twenty minutes last night, if that!”

Stiles winced at the sharpness in his tone, but met his eyes squarely, which John took as progress. 

“Couldn’t sleep…” Stiles debated telling his dad what he had read, then figured that if anyone else in the pack was entitled to the knowledge about his mother’s final days it would be his father “I read mom’s journal.”

His dad looked taken aback. “The one from the end… I think it just got to me.”

John opened his arms to offer comfort and Stiles rushed into them, burrowing in the contact like a starving man setting into a feast. The Sheriff knew his son had felt removed, but he was trying to be more open with physical comfort. It was actually doing wonders for him and Stiles. 

“That bad?” John asked as Stiles tightened the hug.

Stiles nodded. 

“I’ll get to it today, okay? That way if you want to talk…” Stiles pulled back.

“Dad, you don’t have to…”

“What have I told you, Mischief? We are in this together and that includes letting me in on the tough stuff.”

“Sorry, reflex,” Stiles murmured, hanging his head.

“Hey, none of that,” the Sheriff tipped his son’s chin up “I respect what you’re trying to do son, but I want the chance to earn back your trust, and I can’t do that if you don’t give me any room to help.”

Stiles looked a little stunned at his words, but he didn’t appear nervous, so again, that interaction was a win in John’s books.   
“Good luck on your chemistry test today, kid,” he told his son after pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead and swiping the journal from the desk. 

“Thanks Pops!” Stiles called out a few moments later.


	7. Then They Can All Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John reads the journal and calls Stiles to check in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The Sheriff found the station bustling when he came in for his shift, but before he could demand a report Jerry was at his side. 

“We’re booking some people for the next county over. They had a morning bar fight get too out of hand if you can believe it. So, we thought we’d lend a hand.” 

John nodded “Good thinking, your idea?”

Jerry shook his head, “Connors, it was all her.”

Clapping his friend on the shoulder John made his way over to Jessica Connors, waiting patiently as she booked her last man.

“Deputy Connors, I hear you took some good initiative this morning,” commented John. His deputy turned to face him, a small smile on her face at his compliment. 

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“Well, keep up the good work. We might as well fill the cells with these guys anyways; teach them a lesson.”

Jessica nodded, eyes sparkling with glee, “Sure thing, sir.”

“Jerry said it was a bar fight… it’s definitely not early enough for a bar to be open.”

“It was an underground one, Sheriff.”

John nodded, “Well, ain’t that something?” He shook his head “Carry on, deputy.”

“Will do, Sheriff.”

With a wave and nod at the rest of the department on shift, John ducked into his office and shut the door. After placing a call to the Sheriff the next county over, he settled down and took out the journal he’d lifted from Stiles’ room. He knew that work might not be the best place to read it, but he told himself that maybe his surroundings would help ground him. At least, that’s what he hoped as he flipped open the book and began to read. 

He read all morning, taking breaks to sign paperwork from his officers, and to make a few more calls, but by lunchtime he was finished. He’d waved off the suggestion of lunch made by his deputies and stayed in his office for the break, trying to quell the nausea that had overtaken him while he read Claudia’s journal. 

John understood now why Stiles had experienced a panic attack after reading it. 

He’d had no idea. No idea that this was all going on under his roof. 

And Stiles, god, the things that had happened to him. To Claudia. Her fear and anger seemed infused within the journal, the ink of her words smeared, sometimes with blood or with crinkles that meant the page had come in contact with water, tears, John guessed. But it hadn’t just been his family, the Hales had been tricked too. And Claudia, she had tried, tried in vain to keep them safe from everyone and everything that threatened them. 

He checked the time and saw that Stiles should still be on his lunch too. John called him. He picked up a moment after the first ring. 

“Dad? Are you okay?” 

“Stiles, yeah, I’m… I read it.”

“Oh… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything it just”

“I know Stiles, you don’t need to apologize,” John soothed him “I just wanted to check on you. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Stiles responded, he could imagine Stiles shrugging in reply.

“How’d the test go?” he asked.

“I think it went okay. Harris might hate me, but he can’t do much except glare if I answer things correctly.”

John huffed out a laugh, a small smile on his face “Well, the day’s almost over. I was wondering, Derek called earlier to see if he and Peter could come over, do that sit down we talked about last weekend.”

“Oh, yeah, cool,” responded Stiles, “Was that just last weekend?”

“Yeah, it was kiddo. So, are you okay with that?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Stiles? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just we’ll have to tell them, and the pack too come to think of it.”

“Maybe we should wait”

“No, let’s do it tonight. The pack can come by a bit later, if that’s cool? Then they can all know.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Love you, Stiles.”

“Love you too, Daddio.”


	8. So, that's what happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and John tell the pack what happened with Claudia and it's awful. But there is a puppy pile at the end!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

“Stiles are you…” Allison slapped a hand around her boyfriend mouth.

“Scott, stop,” the huntress spoke not unkindly to the werewolf, “You’re making Stiles more anxious and that’s not helping.”

Cowed by his girlfriend’s words, Scott closed his mouth and Allison removed her hand. Stiles shot Allison a small smile, and nudged Scott with his shoulder.

“You’ll be my first call, Scotty.”

“Well, of course he would be, Derek and your dad will already be with you. It’s only logical that Scott would be next,” Lydia inserted herself into their conversation as Stiles closed his locker, hefting his bag onto his back as they walked out to the parking lot, “Or me, I suppose.” She shot a sharp smile at Scott when she spoke. 

“No matter how awesome you are Lyds, Scotty would be my first call tonight if I needed anything. But, I won’t so,” Stiles paused on the steps, noticing that his Jeep wasn’t in the spot he’d parked it that morning. His eyes darted around until a voice cut through his concentration, “Stiles!” Lydia said, a touch of worry and frustration in her voice. His eyes snapped to her then to where she was pointing. At the bottom of the steps was his dad, the jeep behind him, twirling the extra set of keys he had around his fingers. 

“Thanks Lyds,” murmured Stiles, then without thinking about it, he kissed her cheek gently then set off down the steps, waving distractedly to Allison and Scott.

“Are you blushing?” Allison asked Lydia in shook, hiding a giggle behind her hand. 

“Oh, be quiet,” Lydia replied tossing her long hair over her shoulder to avoid looking at her best friend. 

“Dad, is everything…”

“Everything’s fine, I just thought I’d come pick you up. That okay?” John couldn’t lie. He was actually a bit nervous. He hadn’t realized how many parental duties he’d missed performing until he thought about them. He’d made sure his shift ended before Stiles would leave school and found himself whistling in a semblance of joy as he’d walked over to the high school. 

John waved at the pack members gathered on the steps as Stiles made toward the jeep, stopping at the driver’s side. His dad nodded and walked over to the passenger seat. The drive home was quiet for about twenty seconds until John launched into a summary of his day, both to fill the silence and to keep his son informed. Stiles asked questions, casually, but even with his mind elsewhere his son’s questions made him revaluate the trajectories of decisions and reshuffle some of his priorities. 

As they pulled into the driveway, the Camaro appeared behind them seconds later. 

“That’s not stalkery at all,” muttered Stiles as he unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the jeep, his dad following suit a moment later. 

“I resent that implication, little one,” Peter smirked at Stiles who just ignored the older werewolf and headed to the front door, Derek rolling his eyes at his uncle before following Stiles. John titled his head, watching as Derek seemed to naturally fall into step right beside his son. 

Peter sidled up beside him quietly. 

“Is that part of what you’ll be explaining to me?” the Sheriff asked, fixing the other man with a look that demanded a straight answer. 

“Not today. That’s something better saved for neither of their ears yet, since both of them are still battling their own demons.”

“Soon.”

“Of course, Sheriff.”

And they headed into the house together. 

tw----------tw-------------tw-------------tw-------------tw---------------tw--------------tw----------- tw----------tw-------------tw-------------tw-------------tw---------------tw--------------tw--- tw----------tw-------------tw 

The talk went about as well as Stiles had expected meaning no blood was drawn, no guns were shot, and voices were only raised about a dozen or so times. Still as it neared the time that the pack was going to drop by he felt more settled than he had over the past two days. As he pushed himself away from the cabinets he’d been periodically leaning and pacing in front of Stiles pulled out his phone to order in Chinese food for the pack. Derek followed him out into the hall, nodding at the door to indicate that the rest of the pack had arrived, but just as he opened the door Derek’s eyes flashed and every one of his betas growled. 

“What the hell, guys?!” Stiles exclaimed as he went to pull the pack into the house before they drew attention from his neighbours. 

He saw Chris, Allison, Melissa, and Lydia crowding the pack over the doorstep and moved aside, but instead of shifting back and calming down the betas came toward Stiles, locking him in a weird protective circle. 

“Umm, a little help, alpha?” Derek’s eyes were still red, but that didn’t scare Stiles in the slightest. In fact, he didn’t want to think about how they made him feel at all.

“Calm down, pup,” Peter’s voice sounded, gentle and open as he walked out into the hall, “I didn’t know and it didn’t happen.”

John emerged from behind Peter and Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly, because his dad looked guilty. “You didn’t?” Stiles asked, teeth gritted. John shrugged, but met his son’s eyes squarely.

“I wanted to know why.”

“Oh my god, dad!” Stiles groaned. 

“It wasn’t an unfair question, Stiles,” Peter replied. 

“Does anyone want to clue us in?” Lydia interjected. 

“Peter offered Stiles the bite,” growled Scott. 

“When?” Allison asked, confused and suddenly guarded. 

“The night he bit me, right?” Lydia replied looking at Stiles, daring the boy to not answer her. He nodded, glaring at the ring of betas around him.

“I refused. He didn’t bite me. End of story, now back up and shift down,” Stiles’ voice was unintentionally sharp and all of the growling werewolves snapped back to themselves at his tone. 

“Why though?” It was Chris who asked the question, looking at Peter and Stiles, his expression not shocked or angry, but calculating. 

“Really, Chris? Stiles would make the perfect beta, even a hunter could see that.”

Chris snorted quietly, the set up for his usual banter with Peter diffusing some of the tension in the room.

“Not that. Not why, Stiles, but why didn’t you…”

“Force it?” Peter finished. He shrugged “I’m not sure. Maybe some part of my wolf knew who he was or what he was, that’s what I can come up with.”

“Just so we’re clear, Stiles is very happy being human,” interrupted Stiles, “Under no circumstances are you to even contemplate turning me.” He directed the last bit at Derek. 

“Stiles… I won’t promise that.”

“Then you can leave, Derek.”

“Stiles,” John went over to his son.

“No, listen to me. My mom didn’t want the bite, it wouldn’t have taken anyways… when Talia bit her it expelled most of the nogitsune but if it had taken, she could have imploded. This magic inside of me, it doesn’t mix well with the bite of a werewolf.”

Derek listened to Stiles’ words hearing the steady beating of his heart. After another beat he nodded. 

“As your alpha, I respect your wishes.” 

Stiles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d started to hold. 

“Thank you,” then he clapped his hands together “Is everyone good now?” At the collection of nods that met his words he gestured for everyone to come further into the house “Food will be here in about half an hour.”

The pack started to chatter, slowly shaking off the tension from earlier, with the younger ones crowding into the Stilinski’s living room while the adults migrated to the kitchen. 

“You do know how to liven up a party, John, I must say” commented Peter as he accepted a glass of water from the Sheriff. 

“I thought Derek might be more attuned to Stiles than our conversation when I brought it up,” Peter grinned, shaking his head slightly.

“I wish you had told me,” Derek told his uncle. 

“No, you don’t, Derek.”

The alpha said nothing, but John could tell there was going to be more to that conversation later. He offered Chris a drink too but the hunter ended up just stealing Peter’s glass. 

“Ugh, I forgot that you’re that couple” Derek grumbled but the smile on his face took away any sting from his words. 

“So, you haven’t experienced any adverse effects from having your memories returned?” Melissa asked the trio. 

“Not so far, although sorting through them is going to take some time,” Chris commented. 

“Honestly, if only the supernatural was a more widely acknowledged thing you’d be medical miracles” Melissa stated. 

The adults fell into conversation, and while Derek contributed occasionally he kept one ear tuned on the living room, much like Peter did. But Lydia, Erica, and Isaac were doing a good job of keeping the conversation away from anything that would stress the teen out. 

When the kid pulled up the driveway Derek ducked out of the kitchen and came face to face with Stiles who was also heading to the door. 

“No arguments, Stiles” Derek said, “Please” tacking the please on at the end in an attempt to keep Stiles from fighting him. 

“No arguments, alpha,” Stiles responded, putting up his hands, “I just thought you could use an extra set of hands to bring the food inside.”

Derek wasn’t going to examine how Stiles’s casual usage of his title made him feel warm and happy. Instead of examining his own feelings he just nodded at the teen and they made their way to the door where Derek paid, and Stiles shouldered half of the food back to the kitchen. Peter and Boyd came to rescue the rest of it while Derek finished paying. 

The whole pack ate in the kitchen, some sitting, others standing as conversation flowed around them. Stiles and Allison got into a debate about the best way to craft bullets, which only gained steam when Chris leaned into it and started asking Stiles about his methods. At that moment Scott paused, then looked over at John who was talking to his mom, but stopped when he saw Scott’s face swing toward him. He raised his eyebrows at the teen wolf as if to ask “What?”  
“Stiles is your consultant,” Scott said, cutting off his conversation with Isaac and Erica to get confirmation of his theory. 

John nodded, the kitchen having quieted during a lull so that Scott’s voice carried easily in the space.

“Clau used to call herself that, a consultant, made it easier to explain away her day job to other people without raising too many eyebrows” Peter commented. 

Food had been consumed and somehow Stiles had missed Boyd and Lydia clearing plates and storing the food. He tapped his fingers against the couch “I suppose it’s time for that story eh?” 

The pack filed out into the living room, couples and families grouping together, leaving Stiles and his dad facing most of the room. John settled into his armchair and Stiles, anxious leaned onto the chair from behind. 

“So, dad and I read mom’s journal today and it answers some questions and we thought everyone deserved the story…” Stiles’ hands were twitching as he spoke but his voice was steady “The other night, Boyd asked about how someone could be erased and Peter said Alpha’s have the power to do that” he bit his lip then and Peter jumped in “But Talia would have never”

“Not unless she thought she was doing something else.” John’s voice was heavy as he started to speak “From what we can tell, Claudia’s plan was for us to move here and then casually let me get to know the pack. Then she was going to reveal everything, but before that could happen she and Talia had a discussion about the future, about the pack, and families. She told Talia she wanted to have a child” John reached out to grasp Stiles’ hand tightly, both of them clinging to each other “not immediately, but that she was thinking long term. Talia had moved back to Beacon Hills several years before and Claudia was still operating her consulting business. Eventually, though we were supposed to move to Beacon Hills once my paperwork came through from the BH Sheriff’s Office.”

“During that time Talia encountered Deaton, the local druid, a non-threat or so he seemed to her. She notified him that her emissary would be coming to town soon and he told her it wouldn’t be a problem” Stiles continued “She’d visited obviously,” he looked at Peter and Derek who nodded in agreement. 

“She had a room at the house,” Derek told the room “When she wasn’t out consulting or in the city with John she was at home, with us.”

“Her desire to actual settle down made Talia happy but anxious apparently. We would have been engaged for a month at that point, which means Derek you would have been…”

“Six,” Stiles supplied, “because it was around that time that everything went to hell.”  
“Claudia was pregnant and from what we can tell Talia went to Deaton to see if there was anything he knew of that could help keep Claudia centred during the pregnancy. Talia was afraid for her and wanted her protected at all costs.”

“Her desperation made her skip some of Deaton’s finer points didn’t it?” Peter’s voice was quiet as he spoke. 

“What happened?” Chris asked, hand settling on Peter’s shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles with his thumb. 

“He told Talia she could use her alpha powers to keep Claudia safe, which was technically true, and that it simply involved rooting out the pack tinged memories and imbuing them with magic. So, she had Claudia come visit and coated her claws with a mixture of what Deaton said was “plant that would cure the alpha of all her worries about her emissary” and while she was sleeping performed the ritual.”

“The plant in the mixture was water hemlock” Stiles told the room, only Peter and Lydia reacted. 

“It’s one of the most poisonous plants in the world. If someone survives ingesting it amnesia is one of its prominent side effects” exclaimed Lydia, the pieces falling into place for her “But how did it affect the rest of the pack?”

“Claudia woke up while it was happening and she lashed out, protective of both her mind and the life growing inside of her, she pulled some of the poison out and rebounded it onto Talia. By affecting the pack’s alpha she subjected all of the pack bonds to amnesia too.” John sighed “When she came to in the morning, she was at home and then when I eventually moved down she told me the friends she’d had in town had moved without telling her. It seemed odd that these people she’d been wanting me to meet no longer figured in her life, but Claudia was always different. I didn’t really give it a second thought. We were more focused on getting married and set up the house,” he turned his wedding ring around on his finger, drawing strength and comfort from it. 

“Okay, so that explains the amnesia, but what about the possession?” Scott was the one to ask the question John and Stiles were dreading. 

“I have a feeling the Argents aren’t clear in this matter, am I right?” Chris spoke up.

Allison lifted her eyes to look at Stiles who wouldn’t look at her, but he nodded. 

“So, was Deaton intentionally harming the pack?” Scott pressed, still a little caught on some earlier details. 

“It seems” John spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully “that Deaton was threatened by Claudia but instead of challenging her and losing, he sought to put her out of commission. She didn’t just lose her memories of the pack, but of her childhood, of hunting, of her magic. She lost so much of herself,” John hated how he hadn’t seen it; how he’d never seen it “But as Stiles grew up Claudia seemed to regain parts of herself. She wrote that it has something to do with the magic they share,” he looked up at Stiles who stopped pacing and finally came to sit down at his dad’s feet. 

“My mom, she knew something was wrong, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. It all came to a head the day Victoria came over with Kate, under the pretense that my mom needed friends or something, and they said some stuff they shouldn’t have. They needled her, wanting to know if Deaton’s plan had worn off and then one of them mentioned the Crowes. I’d never heard of them before but the mere mention of the name made mom stand up and tell them to leave, even though she didn’t seem to know why. She was upset and I came down from upstairs to see if I could help. All I remember is Victoria saying something about a spark of energy and then suddenly there was thunder and storm clouds rolled outside. Kate was carrying a gun and I was scared so I wanted to go call dad, but Victoria grabbed hold of me. Then suddenly, she was across the room, and mom was glowing” Stiles rambled the memory coming from the very depths of his mind “She drove them out and then one of the worst rainstorms we’d ever had hit Beacon Hills. The guards Deaton had placed on her memory were fraying, and the magic use had broken through some lower level ones.”

“She had Stiles promise to keep the magic to himself. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on and so he did,” John picked up the thread from there “But Kate and Victoria were worried, so they paid a visit to Deaton. He supplied them with a packet of tea that contained a plant named Brugmansia also known as”

“The angel’s trumpet,” Lydia breathed, “It causes a disconnect between fantasy and reality and is extremely fatal, but how, she should have died” she stopped talking.

“Much faster,” Stiles filled in the silence after Lydia stopped talking, “Yeah, the plant is pretty deadly and yes, normally, without a spark she would have died days after ingesting it. But she didn’t ingest it. With her spark hidden from her mind there were no wards around the house so it appears that Victoria and Kate broke in, poisoning small everyday things of hers. They wanted her to die slowly.” Stiles curled closer to his dad, who placed an arm around his shoulders, keeping him close. 

“What they hadn’t particularly counted on was her former nogitsune possession not being complete and for her to have already started experimenting with magic. Claudia woke up one morning with her tattoo having melted off of her skin, as her body decayed on the inside the magic she’d tethered to the anti-possession symbol wore away. And while Talia’s bite changed the spirit, he’d left a part inside of her, a tether. It returned to her with the help of the power of the Nemeton.” 

“She fought it again, and again. Every day. It preyed on her and her fears. It unlocked her memories but by then we had been told that she was losing her mind. She alternated between trying to get me to stay away from her by any means necessary and trying to pass along her knowledge, but it all got mixed up when she spoke. She wasn’t my mom at the end,” Stiles had silent tears streaming down his face but he continued to speak “She died a few days after the fire; the night it happened she was in so much pain.”

“Pack bonds breaking can feel like losing a limb” Peter interjected.

“And then she died, a few days after I saw Laura and Derek at the hospital. She slipped away, but for just a moment, it was her again. She gripped my hand tighter than she ever had while she’d been dying and she told me that sometimes the real monsters are the people around us and that I needed to believe in order to survive,” Stiles trailed off, then cleared his throat “So, that’s what happened. We just thought you ought to know” he rested his head on his dad’s knee, exhausted by the day’s events. 

“Thank you,” the voice was small, but steady and it came from Isaac “You didn’t have to tell us, but you did, so thank you.”

Stiles nodded but didn’t turn. He didn’t have to, because he felt a warm presence come up and settle at his side, a tuft of blonde curls visible. Slowly, a pack pile settled around Stiles, and John as the Sheriff had come to sit beside Stiles on the ground. Even Melissa wedged herself in beside Scott and John, Chris and Peter near both Derek and Allison. They comforted each other and eventually, they began to fall asleep, one by one.


	9. Take care of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes breakfast for the pack. Allison teases her dad and Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

John woke up slowly. He couldn’t believe that he’d fallen asleep on the floor of his living room with a werewolf pack and yet, somehow, he felt no pain from his sleeping contortions. Low voices were the next thing to permeate his brain and he noticed that Stiles was no longer curled up near him. Derek was also absent from the pack pile, but while John sat up and met the alpha’s gaze as the werewolf watched over them from the couch, newspaper in hand, Stiles wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. 

Instead of speaking, Derek tipped his head toward the kitchen then returned to his reading. Standing up and stretching briefly John also noticed that Melissa was also absent from the pack pile on the floor. He padded over to the kitchen where the murmured voices he’d heard earlier became clearer. It turned out to be more of a one sided conversation, as John finally entered the kitchen to see Stiles rambling and Melissa just sitting at the counter, watching him. 

Catching sight of him Melissa spoke “He won’t let me help”. She gestured at the counter where Stiles had cleared space for a bagel assembly line of epic proportions. 

“You don’t need to do anything, Melissa. You do enough already” Stiles told her absently yet intentionally as he pulled coffee cups out of the cupboards. Once he’d set the cups up he turned to realize that it was his dad that Melissa had greeted.

“Morning Dad,” Stiles spoke in a too bright tone that made John’s Sheriff senses flare.

The Sheriff walked across to hug his son, “Morning Stiles.” He then stepped back to watch Stiles’ face go peaceful and smooth out some of the worry lines he had. 

“You didn’t sleep much did you?” John asked. Melissa feigning distraction in the background.

“About as much as usual,” Stiles shrugged, stepping back to set up the coffee instead of looking at his dad. 

“Which would be what?” Melissa interjected.

“It’s never enough for a growing boy,” Stiles quipped, winking at her.

“More or less than 4 hours a night, Stiles?” John asked.

He shrugged again.

“It varies. I do sleep though, so that’s the important thing right?” 

“Stiles.” Melissa said his name softly but firmly.

“Last night? Less, okay.”

“Is that your norm?” Melissa pressed.

Stiles hesitated. His fingers fluttered over the coffee maker buttons, on autopilot. He really wanted to shrug again but that wasn’t really an option.

“That or less,” but it wasn’t Stiles who responded, it was John. He was watching his son fight with himself and decided to help him out. 

Stiles paused, surprised at his dad. “You are the Sheriff for a reason” he quipped eventually “I’m looking into something that might help though.”

“Medicine?” Melissa’s voice was sharp.

“Magic. Mom,” he ducked his head when he mentioned Claudia but he kept talking, “She wrote something about ley line connections calming her down. It might work to center me too.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Peter’s voice carried into the kitchen before the werewolf made his appearance “Clau used to get nightmares, bad ones. Ley and pack connections helped her through them.”

Allison appeared at Peter’s elbow as the wolf finished speaking. She was still rubbing sleep from her eyes when Peter passed her a glass of orange juice from the selection Stiles had put out. She accepted it with a muttered thanks and settled onto the chair next to Melissa, putting her head down on the counter. 

“We can talk about it later,” Peter said, Stiles smiling at him gratefully. Melissa looked liked she didn’t want to let this go but after meeting John’s eyes, she nodded.

“Still tired Ally?” Stiles asked the huntress.

“I was planning to sleep in today, Stiles.”

“Well, you can do that at home after you eat something.”

Allison squinted her eyes at him and then nodded.

“Lox and cream cheese on a sesame bagel?” Stiles asked her, turning to toast the bagel already.

“How?... You know what, I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”

“Well, if the little Argent won’t ask”

“She’s not little, Peter.” Stiles chastised the wolf, while pushing a plate of plain bagel with sliced tomato and basil on it toward him. 

“I’m definitely asking about it” he finished his earlier sentence. “How?” He pointed at his plate.

“How what?”

“How did you know what I eat? Or what Allison prefers to eat for that matter?”

Stiles was back to shrugging in response “My dad’s the Sheriff” Stiles shot his dad a brief smile “and he passed along the importance of observation skills, zombie wolf.” 

“I call bullshit,” Isaac remarked in response as he appeared in the kitchen. Erica and Boyd were right behind him, Lydia, Scott, and Chris just behind them. 

“Built in lie detectors,” Erica commented swiping two mugs of coffee from Stiles and passing one to Boyd. 

“He keeps notes. He’s got friend binders.”

“Seriously, Scotty?” 

It was only then that Scott realized he’d kind of exposed his best friend in front of the pack.

“Oops,” Scott shot Stiles puppy dog eyes which Stiles pretended to glare at. 

“You get your food last,” muttered Stiles as he assembled Allison’s bagel and passed her plate to her. 

“Aww, that’s adorable,” commented Isaac, “You love us.”

“How else am I supposed to take care of you all?” Stiles replied, tone playful. While no one seized on the obvious worries attached to that particular sentence, John shared a knowing look with Melissa and Scott.

“Well, aren’t we lucky.” Derek had finally appeared, and Stiles passed him a refill of coffee before putting the finishing touches on Chris’ cheese and bacon bagel sandwich.

Stiles just rolled his eyes at the alpha “So, what’s going on in the world, Sourwolf?” nodding at the paper tucked under Derek’s arm.

“It’s apparently national leaf blower day.”

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to encourage yard work,” commented Chris. 

“Yesterday was hug a medievalist day,” Lydia remarked. Allison snorted at that. 

The topic of weird holidays kept the pack entertained as they ate breakfast. Once again Boyd helped clear the plates, but he was aided this time by Scott and Isaac. The pack trickled out of the Stilinski house so that by eleven, Derek had just left after speaking quickly with John.

That just left John and Stiles, alone in the kitchen.

“So, why do I get my own binder?” John teased his son, who turned red at the question.

“I’ve known you longer,” murmured Stiles.

“I should hope so,” John replied, chuckling, then draining his coffee mug he placed it in the dishwasher and turned back to his son, “Why don’t we head back to your mom’s cottage tonight; Derek figures it might help you sleep.”

Stiles fiddled with a strong on his hoodie, which he hadn’t taken off yet having fallen asleep in it yesterday. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his alpha and his dad discussing him behind his back. “You going to take a lot of his suggestions?”

“If I think they’re good ones, Mica. You trust him, that’s enough for me to trust him too.”

Stiles bit the inside of his lip as his dad watched him, trying to unravel his feelings. He craved the feeling of being taken care of, but it also made him antsy because well, he wasn’t the one people should spend their time taking care of. 

“Mica?” His dad had drawn himself closer as he muddled over his options and what he deserved.

“Yeah, Dad?” Stiles’ voice was off, just a bit as he wondered, maybe he should have gone with Lera to train. He’d be able to better protect his pack and take care of them that way, maybe...

“Thank you for this morning.” The rest of the pack had already conveyed their thanks in words and actions, but John had waited to get Stiles alone. 

A smile blossomed across Stiles’ face. He had helped. His dad was happy and that made it all worth it.  
——————  
“Do you think he really believes that?” Allison’s voice seemingly loud in the almost empty car, except for their guest. 

“Does who believe what, Ally?” Chris asked.

“Stiles. Do you really think he feels like he needs to take care of us?” Allison turned in her seat now, ignoring her seatbelt cutting into her shoulder to look at Peter who casually sat behind her.

“I think you know the answer to that one, Allison” the wolf replied, “What you want to know is if it’s normal for creatures of his kind.” 

“Is it?”

They pulled into the driveway of the Argent house. 

“What makes you think I have that kind of knowledge?” 

“You knew he was a spark before the rest of us,” Allison replied. Chris looked at the two of them and just huffed, “Let’s talk about this inside, Ally.”

But Allison didn’t move. Neither did Peter, aside from unbuckling his own seatbelt.

“To my knowledge, Claudia and Stiles were, are, the first sparks in several centuries. We have little to no guidance on them because the lore is beyond ancient, but one thing every tale agrees upon is that a spark will always anticipate the ultimate sacrifice of her life as secondary to maintaining the balance of the world.”

Allison’s forehead crinkled in concern.

“So, yes, I think Stiles truly believes that part of his purpose on earth, subconsciously acknowledged or not, is to keep people safe.”

“No matter the cost?” Allison’s voice was soft as she posed the question.

Peter nodded, then leaned forward to unbuckle Allison’s seatbelt. The teen sagged forward a bit, but Chris placed an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re not going to let that happen, Ally.”

“Promise?” She looked from her dad to Peter. Both of them murmured in agreement. “Good," she stated firmly, then her lips twitched up into a grin “I’m going to need friends like him when it comes time for you two to get married to make sure it’s all kosher by werewolf standards.” She flounced out of the car then.

Peter let out a bark of a laugh. Chris just shook his head at his daughter, smiling as they all entered the house. 

“I’m serious,” Allison called down to them from the top floor as Chris and Peter took off their shoes and coats, “So, sort your shit out. Love you.”

With that she closed her bedroom door, turned on some music, and picked up her phone to call Lydia.


	10. Off the clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deputies come to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

John wasn’t stupid. He was a Sheriff after all. He had to be able to notice and deduce things – not that he ever would have deduced that his son was secretly part of a werewolf pack. He probably would have thought Stiles was part of a gang, cult, or on drugs before allowing his mind to even brush up against the idea of something as seemingly impossible as the supernatural. 

He knew that things were far from fixed. That Stiles wasn’t broken, but that he was definitely far from okay. At least he was in on the secrets, for the most part. He felt that there were still things Stiles was keeping from the pack, and from him in particular. He knew that the other night, the night Melissa and Scott had confronted him, had revealed something Stiles had told him yet, but he knew there was at least something else on top of that revelation. He was also trying to figure out how healthy it was to continuously press Stiles for information. When was his son supposed to heal? But how was he supposed to heal if his past and his nightmares were keeping him from healing? 

There was nothing about this in any parenting book John knew of, well, maybe he’d peek around the library at Claudia’s cottage to see is she had written one. It was the type of project he could see her taking on. It was at that moment that his cellphone rang. 

“Hey Tara,” John listened to his deputy thoughtfully as his eyes sought out his son who was splayed out in the living room, doing homework and studying. John knew it was more studying than it was homework, because despite his late nights and nightmares somehow Stiles was still making straight As. He watched Stiles’ head perk up, despite his headphones, and John knew Stiles hadn’t been listening to anything. It was a smart way to help people underestimate you; he shook his head at how vigilant Stiles was – it would make him proud if it didn’t make him sad. 

“So, what do you think?” Tara asked.

“I think I’m lucky to have deputies like you,” John said, a smile on his face “So, you want me to sign off on it?”

“I could bring it by…” Tara said, slowly, trying not to jinx it as Jessica, Adam, and Jerry crowded around her desk, all of them ending their overnight shift and hoping to check in on the Stilinski men. 

John huffed out a laugh “How many of you are there?” keeping his voice down so that Stiles couldn’t hear. 

“The Musketeers…” Tara replied. 

“Aren’t there only three?” John asked, “Oh, no. Wait there’s D’Artagnan too, right?” he shook his head “I’ll see you soon, Tara.”

He got up from the kitchen table, where he’d been reading one of Stiles’ supernatural binders surprisingly, actually enjoyed it, and as he moved around passing by the kitchen opening he noticed Stiles had taken his headphones out. He watched his son, packing up his books into a pile. 

“Heading into the station?” Stiles question was casual. It wasn’t said with a resigned tone or coloured by underlying resentment. John was torn, proud about how important his job was to Stiles and yet upset about how often his job had often come before his son’s well-being without even knowing it. Stiles, his arms full of books, looked up at his dad, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s cool, dad. Go save, the world,” Stiles laughed, although his laugh sounded a bit hollow to John’s ears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” John’s voice came out stronger and firmer than he anticipated, but he reaffirmed his words, “I’m here for the day,” and thought in his mind --- ‘and every day after that if you need it, Mica.’

“Umm, okay… sure…” Stiles’ quirked his head, a confused expression crossing his face as he looked at his dad, “You good, Pops?”

“Tara’s dropping by with new schedules,” John said, explaining himself to Stiles who nodded.

“Oh, cool, cool,” Stiles’ face brightened a bit and that made John proud of himself. 

A knock at the front door interrupted anything else either of them would have said. “That’ll be her,” John commented.

“I’ll put my stuff upstairs and just came down to say hi,” Stiles called as John made his way to the front door. Stiles thundered upstairs and John shook his head, sometimes Stiles acted just his age. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Three Musketeers,” John remarked as he opened the door, looking at his friends and colleagues. 

“What’s happening, John?” Jerry kicked off his boots, arranging them by the door and walking past his friend and boss, patting him on the shoulder. 

“What’s happening? That sounds so odd coming out of your mouth, Jer” Adam commented, “Sheriff” he nodded at John, who nodded at Adam, “You’re off the clock, Deputy, John is fine. How often do I have to tell you that?”

“Every single time,” Jess replied, smiling at John as she hung up her coat. 

“I think you’re right, J” Tara commented, kicking off her own boots, passing the schedules to John. He flipped the folder open, scanned them, nodded, and then invited them all in. He slipped the folder onto the desk in his office and emerged just as Stiles came down the stairs. 

“Hey kid!” Jerry called out to him and Stiles whipped his head around, quickly taking in the four deputies, their boots by the door, the absence of tension in the air. 

“Hey Jerry, off the clock?” Stiles said, walking over to the group, some tension in his body that John could see. Tara’s eyes flicked to him and then back to Stiles, and he knew they’d noticed it too. 

“You bet.” Jerry reached out to ruffle Stiles’ hair and pull him in for a brief hug and then passing him off to the other deputies who repeated his actions, much to Stiles’ chagrin. 

“Staying out of trouble?” Adam asked Stiles, who tensed for a moment, then played it off.

“So, far so good, though I suppose it’s only Saturday afternoon,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable but seemingly wanting to stay around the people who made up his childhood support system. 

“We’re just spending some time in this weekend, you know how it is with work and school – we deserve some time off,” John interjected, announcing his re-entry into the room. 

“Any chance you’ll remember that more often?” Stiles quipped, challenging his dad playfully. 

John normally would have rolled his eyes, but it was true. He worked too hard. He had essentially been working himself to death, not as literally as he had been right after Claudia’s death, but his former schedule hadn’t been good for him, his family, or his job. 

“That’s the plan, kiddo.” He joined them in the living room, where Stiles was still standing, but the deputies had taken seats. 

“Can we offer you anything, guys?” John asked his friends.

“Water? Water, would be great” Jerry replied, after consulting with his fellows. 

“I’ve got some homemade apple cider kicking around too…” Stiles suggested, almost shyly. 

“Sign me up,” Jess told him, Tara and Jerry nodded too.

“Dad?”

“That sounds great, Stiles” John was a little taken aback, when had Stiles made cider? Since when did Stiles make stuff like that? But also, this was the second time today Stiles was trying to take care of things and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

“Let me help,” Adam jumped up, determined to talk to Stiles since the teen had avoided any one on one talks on the nights he came to tutor Callie, “I insist.”  
Stiles shrugged “I won’t fight you, Adam” putting up his hands in a placating manner that John had seen all too often recently, and that made John’s stomach twist. 

As Adam and Stiles made their way to the kitchen Tara leaned forward, Jess and Jerry leaning in too “How is he?” 

“Alright,” John replied, “He needs some time off.”

“You both do,” Jerry responded, “And we’re just here to check in.”

“I noticed,” John commented, drily. 

In the kitchen, Stiles pulled the jug of cider from the fridge and set a kettle up to heat it. 

“Mugs?” 

“Behind you to the left,” Stiles told Adam.

“You only own six mugs?”

“We had some people over last night, so most of them are in the dishwasher” Stiles confessed. 

As the cider slowly started to simmer, Adam leaned on the counter looking at Stiles who knew better than to shift uncomfortably under a deputy’s gaze. 

“How’s school?” Adam asked, feeling a bit lost as to how to start this conversation with Stiles who was usually talkative beyond belief. 

“It’s junior year, what can you do? I’m just trying to figure out where I want to apply. I’ve got a short list, but I have to do a search of scholarships and funding first.” Stiles tapped his fingers on the counter. 

“What area are you looking at studying?” 

“Psychology, History, English,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck again “Criminal Justice.”

“I think you’ll do great at whatever you pick, Stiles. Sure, you don’t want to go into BioChem or something though? Callie sings your praises weekly.”

“She’s a smart kid, Adam. She just needed a push; I didn’t do much.”

“Bull, you did a lot. Accept it. Revel in the couched compliment.”

“Sure thing, Deputy.” Stiles shot Adam a lazy salute. Adam sent one back at him and the kettle started to whistle.


	11. Maybe he should go into the CIA?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deputies, John, and Derek all contemplate Stiles applying to college (but not in the same room). Stiles gets some more sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The deputies hung out for over three hours, eventually, into the first hour Stiles’ eyes started to droop, but none of them made a comment. Usually Stiles wouldn’t sleep around people, even around people he trusted, but John was starting to see his son trusting both the pack and himself again. So, when Stiles’ head drooped and landed on his shoulder, John grinned and just shuffled his son gently so that Stiles’ head settled onto a pillow. He let his son sleep as he talked to his friends. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping well,” John told the four deputies.

“I figured,” Jerry replied, then his eyes narrowed, “There’s something you’re not cluing us into isn’t there, John?”

John stayed quiet. 

“You’ll tell us when you’re ready,” Tara spoke, “We’re not taking it personally John, we’re just worried about you two.”

“I know,” John replied, “and I really appreciate it, but it’s not really my story to tell.”

“So, any chance you know what’s on his short list of schools? His interests are pretty wide-ranging so I’m kind of stuck on guesses,” Adam interjected. 

“He hasn’t told me yet, I think he’d concerned about funding,” John rubbed the back of his neck, “I wish he didn’t put so much pressure on himself, but his pack --- of friends” he internally rolled his eyes at his save, “are starting to pick up some slack too. That helps.”

“I’m betting you he’ll go Ivy League,” Jessica told them all, leaning back in her chair, sipping her cider knowingly, “He’s built for it.”

“I’m not sure he’d want to go far from home though,” Jerry put forward his own opinion. 

“If he gets in somewhere good for him, I will drive him there myself,” muttered John, to a chorus of chuckles from his deputies. 

“Maybe he should go into the CIA,” Tara commented, and the other four turned to look at her with varying degrees of surprise, “The Culinary Institute of America – this cider is damn good.”

John laughed out loud and Stiles slept on. 

tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw--tw

Derek was reading on the sofa in the loft, trying to enjoy the lack of rambunctiousness with Erica, Boyd, and Isaac out causing havoc somewhere else for a change. But he couldn’t concentrate. He felt restless turning over the revelations from the other day and that morning over and over in his mind. 

Truthfully, his mind was just cycling through thoughts about Stiles. 

Stiles, refusing Peter’s bite. 

Stiles, making him promise not to bite him, no matter what. 

Stiles, whose mother had served as Derek’s godmother. 

Stiles, who felt responsible for the pack and their safety. 

Stiles, who uses Derek’s title casually and yet never disrespectfully. 

Stiles, who occupied more of Derek’s mind than he’d usually admit to, but he was alone and he wasn’t going to deny his emotions to himself. He cared about Stiles. A lot. Stiles was young though and Derek would never, ever let the kid know how much he cared, how much his wolf cares for him. Stiles was the one who could escape all of the craziness, and Derek wanted him to have that shot, no matter what. 

Even if it meant finding a way to pay off Stiles’ college tuition anonymously. He’d thought about it of course, but nothing beyond caring for the teen even made its way into his mind. Stiles was too young, as young as Derek had been when his life turned upside down, and as his alpha he was responsible for protecting the teen as he went through life. Derek was happy with that; he really was. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The CIA joke is from Gilmore Girls.


	12. The College Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Stiles talk colleges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

By the time his deputies left John was feeling even better than he had that morning. He was surrounded by people who would take care of Stiles, and who had his back as he worked to mend his mistakes. He returned to the living room and just watched Stiles sleep for a moment. 

He was thankful that his son seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but the moment he thought that he seemed to a bit too hopeful. Stiles started to curl up on the couch, a soft whimper escaping his mouth. John was there in a second, hand poised to cup his son’s face, and slowly bring him back, but he hesitated. He didn’t want to touch Stiles and see his son shrink away from him. 

Just as another whimper escaped Stiles a soft glow appeared in John’s peripheral vision. He whipped around to see a fox, not a real one, but a glowing one pad over to them. The fox looked at him, something akin to softness and understanding in its eyes. After briefly nudging John’s hand away from Stiles it jumped up onto the couch and started to nudge at the teen. As the tension in the teen’s body seemed to ebb the fox trilled quietly, looking at John again who could have sworn the damn magical being was smiling. The fox walked up to Stiles, nosing at the teen’s chest, poking at the spot where Stiles’ heart was and the teen went almost boneless. The fox trilled again and then padded over to the boy’s head, licking him on the nose playfully. Another trill and then it seemed to melt away in front of the Sheriff’s eyes. 

“Dad, everyone go home?” Stiles asked his father, his words a bit disconnected due to his sleepy state. He caught sight of his dad staring at him. “What happened?”

“I think you’ve got a guardian angel, who takes the shape of a fox,” John stated, “and that is not even close to the weirdest thing that I’ve thought over this past week.”

“What are you…” Stiles trailed off, “She was here? The fox?”

“You know what I’m talking about?” John seized on Stiles’ hesitancy, “Stiles?”

“The other night, when we came back from the cottage and I… zoned out, there was a fox there in the middle of the road. It turned into mom. She told me to wake up and go home.” His last two sentences were said very quietly. 

“Where were you going, Mica?” 

“S’not important,” Stiles responded immediately. 

“Mischief…”

“Just leaving,” murmured Stiles, pulling his knees up to his chest, keeping his head down. John put out a hand and squeezed his son’s shoulder tightly. 

“Well, I’m glad she stopped you. I would have missed you, Mischief.” 

“Thanks dad,” Stiles murmured, smiling at his dad, “I’ll look into the fox thing. I know that a nogitsune is technically a kitsune incarnation. Essentially, a fox spirit. That might explain it.”

“If anyone could figure it out, you could, Mica, but you never have to do it alone.”

“I know, dad.” Stiles uncurled, “Thanks for letting me sleep despite company.”

John laughed lightly, “I think Jerry would be offended to be called anything other than family, kid.”  
“Too true. You guys talk about anything fun?”

“Adam’s wondering about what school’s you’re applying to next year?”

Stiles quirked an eyebrow at his father who’d come to sit next to him on the couch “Just Adam eh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t turn down any information you’d be willing to share, kiddo.”

“I still have to do a sweep for a few things.”

“Funding, right?”

Stiles ducked his head a bit.

“Mica, I need you to know that I don’t want you to limit yourself when you’re applying. We’ll, I,” John paused, “I will make it work for you, Mica. I promise.” 

“Dad,” Stiles started to speak, but John held up a hand. 

“I will make it work.”

“Dad, this can’t… I have to be realistic. I don’t want to start my life with a mountain of debt hanging over me, or you.”

“This conversation, this part of it, is not over, but I want to know about the fun stuff. Where are you looking to apply?”

“College is fun?” Stiles quipped, laughing briefly, as his dad shoved him playfully. 

“Wish list, please,” John responded.

“Fine,” Stiles sighed, pretending to be put out, but truth be told he was happy to be having such a normal moment with his dad, something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to do again after Scott was bitten. He shifted for a moment, a little intimidated by the prospect of such normality.

“Harvard?” His dad’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

Stiles looked surprised.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

Stiles blushed. “Yeah, they’ve got one of the best folklore & mythology programs in the country and I could also take psychology at the same time.”

“That sounds… exactly right for you,” John told his son, smiling, “Where else?”

“The University of Pennsylvania, for Criminology and a minor in folklore.”

“So far, Jess is winning the office pool,” John commented offhand. 

“They bet on where I’m applying for college?”

“Are you really surprised?”

“I suppose not,” he laughed, “My other top picks for criminology are University of California-Irvine, University of Maryland – College Park, and City University of New York.”

John ruffled Stiles’ hair, “You’re set on criminology then?” 

Stiles had to force himself not to tense, “Yeah?” It sounded almost like a question.

“Oh, Mica, I just want you to know that I’m proud of you no matter what you want to do.”

Stiles turned to press his face into his dad’s shoulder and John put an arm around him, hugging him. Stiles mumbled something. 

“Mischief?”

“I wanna be like you.” Stiles’ voice was small, but strong even as he kept his face tucked up against John’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” John murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. They sat for a minute or two, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Nope, those are my top picks. I figure five applications is enough to keep me occupied.”

“Not another college, but something, right?”

“Remember how Peter said the Council recruits agents?” John nodded, tightening his grip on Stiles, “I might have a shot there.”

“You could have a shot wherever you want one, Mischief.”

“You’re not mad?”

“That you want to join a super secret intelligence agency to fight the supernatural? Nah, kiddo. I’ll worry if it happens, but I’d worry about you if you become a professor and taught uppity college kids for the rest of your life. I’ll be proud of you regardless of what you want and what you pursue.”

“Really?”

“Really.”


	13. Cottage Stilinski (The Ground Floor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his dad explore the cottage his mom built.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf. 
> 
> *The exploration of the cottage will come in two parts (at least). :)

The cottage was still there. John wasn’t entirely sure why he had expected it to vanish, but it hadn’t. Stiles had let him drive the jeep again so that he could sit in the passenger and chatter away about magical buildings. His son’s words washed over him and while his mind absorbed them to review later, John was just happy to hear Stiles rant again. He knew he’d missed it, but he hadn’t expected its re-emergence to actively impact him. John felt himself smile more easily and he hugged his son every chance he got. Somehow, he’d gotten wind of Scott’s plan to hug Stiles every time the teen said something that sounded like a deflection or a dismissal of his feelings he’d hug him. Stiles hadn’t caught on yet, but John was sure he would soon. 

He pulled up and parked, both of them exiting the jeep at the same time. Stiles pulled his hoodies sleeves down over his hands, and walked over to the door. He looked back at his dad “I thought it might have vanished,” Stiles commented. 

“So did I,” John replied, putting out a hand to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder reassuringly, then he pushed open the door. 

Stiles followed close behind him, not out of fear of the cottage, but out of his craving for closeness and comfort. This place felt like his mother to him and it both soothed and saddened him. 

“I didn’t really take a good look around the other day,” John commented as they set their shoes by the door, on a mat that interestingly resembled the one they currently had in their front hallway at home. 

“Tour then?” Stiles asked. 

“Makes sense,” his dad replied, tone relaxed and easy. 

They started from the entry way, veering off to the left where the kitchen was, and walking past that the duo found a sunporch that seemed to run the whole length of the back of the house. It was warm despite the chill in the air outside, and the room was made of glass that seemed familiar. 

“I think it’s one way glass,” John said, stepping up to the glass and clicking a nail against it. The nail in the glass touched his real nail “Definitely one way glass.”  
“That’s really smart… although” Stiles started to speak then trailed off.

“What’s going through your head, kiddo?”

“Well, that’s definitely a protective measure right?” 

John nodded., turning around “And if the glowing around you is anything to go by there are probably magic protections too.”

“What?” Stiles looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time that he was glowing, faintly again, but even as he looked the glow dimmed and winked out of sight “Cool!”

John laughed then picked up the thread of their conversation “I think she was definitely committed to making this place as safe as possible.”

The sun porch itself was sectioned into three areas. One featured light grey wicker furniture bedecked with squishy cushions and small marble tables, but as John and Stiles moved forward they felt themselves pass into a more humid environment and suddenly they were surrounded by plants. A greenhouse, a magical greenhouse apparently, sat between the sit down section of the porch and what appeared to be a magical workshop. Long tables pushed up against the wall and the glass were the first things Stiles and John saw after walking through the forest like greenhouse. The floor on this side was stone, and marked with chalk. Crystals, more chalk, and pens sat in jars on the long work tables. Stiles looked at in wonder, and went forward almost on instinct to touch one of the pendants that was swaying just slightly from a nail on the wall. John reach out to divert, Stiles’ hand at the last moment.

“We don’t know what anything does yet” John reminded his son, apologetically. 

“Right, good call, Dad” Stiles told him, patting his dad on the shoulder “You think this was her workshop?”

“Well, I don’t recall her being interested in jewelry making, so probably” John quipped “It feels, weird in here.” He stepped away from Stiles and further into the room “Not a bad weird, but energetic like.”

“I think that’s the undercurrent of magic…” Stiles guessed “Peter or Derek could probably tell us though. I think magic smells different – it must.”

There was a door at the edge of the worktable against the wall, and cautiously John pushed it open, revealing the interior of the house again. After a long look at the workshop, and another brief moment of glowing, Stiles followed his dad back into the house. 

“I’m just surprised that we’ve been able to enter all of the rooms so far, I was sure there would be protections,” murmured Stiles to himself.   
“There probably are, but like you said earlier, if it’s magic we can’t see it.” 

Back inside the main house, the two Stilinski men found themselves in a study of sorts. Two out of the four walls were mostly corkboard, the other walls featured dark panelling, a large window, and a desk, broad, with several drawers underneath it. There were boxes tucked under the desk, and both of them moved toward the boxes, but stopped short of opening them. John had just been thinking how it would be an amazing office when he noticed the boxes; they had his name on them. 

“Dad?” Stiles spoke quietly, bringing his father’s attention back to him. Stiles held out a sticky note, silently asking his dad to read it. There in Claudia’s tight cursive were two words – John’s office and a small heart followed the words. John felt tears pricking at his eyes, and Stiles came over to hug him. 

“It would be the perfect office,” murmured Stiles, hugging his father tightly. 

“That it would be, kid.” John replied, ruffling Stiles’ hair as they separated, after another sweep of the room, John gently guided Stiles to the other door in the room and they found themselves in a short hallway, several steps from the informal living room they’d been in the other night. 

Stiles pulled his dad to the library, both of them ducking in and walking the length of the room, not leaving each other’s sides. Each of them scanned the shelves, calling out interesting or fantastic titles to each other. Stiles made sure to show his dad the row of journals only he’d been able to see the last time he was here, Lydia had just seen a shelf of books, but she could never make out what they said. 

As his dad reached out to run his finger over the spine of the books, listing off years under his breath, Stiles let out a breath. “I think only we can see them, unless we want other to see them,” he told his dad. 

Stiles slipped the one he’d brought with him back into its place at the end just as his dad pulled out two from the middle of the set, and one from earlier. Stiles looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I’ve got nothing against chronological order, I just think something a bit lighter might be better.”

“Good call, Daddio.”

They slipped into the living to drop off the journals and continued exploring, passing by an extremely formal dining room that made Stiles grin. 

“What?” John asked the teen as he laughed lightly at the chandelier and the high society feel of the place.   
“You’re telling me this was normal for you two?” Stiles gestured at the extravagantly outfitted room.

“Fair point, kid. Honestly, I’m not sure what she was thinking with this, but…” John tapped his fingers on the back of a chair “but somehow, this still feels like her. She didn’t do it often, but sometimes she just got so dressed up. My first year on the force in the city I had to go to the department’s Christmas gala. I was not on board, but she assured me it would be fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking Stiles’ gaze “There were some guys in the department that I didn’t get along well with and your mom, well, she was a free spirit. They were traditionally minded.” John looked back up “They were sexist pigs.”

Stiles let out a surprised laugh. 

“They’d drop some less than flattering comments about our relationship leading up to the event, and then something came up at the last minute, and your mom had to meet us there.” Stiles watched as his dad’s eye softened in nostalgia “Your mom walked in after everyone else had arrived, walking down the stairs like some sort of Disney princess. She even wore a damn tiara. She put everyone else to shame, but she was so sweet, funny, and she won everyone over easily.”

“What about those guys?”

“Well, they were single” John winked at his “and she eventually, got me to grudgingly introduce her to them and she stripped them of all of their pride while smiling and laughing. They didn’t even realize they’d been made fun of until she’d pulled me onto the dance floor.”

Stiles smiled widely, loving this glimpse of his mother that his father was giving him. 

After another minute or two, they left the dining room, and set off for the stairs. 

To be continued… 


	14. Unravel Her Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House Tour part two! And a will is discovered. Also, memory projections mean sad memories are revisited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The stairs were artfully curved, but wide enough to prevent Stiles from tripping over his own feet. “They’re a bit ostentatious,” Stiles said out loud, making his dad laugh.

“That was your mother, the smallest things meant so much to her.”

At the top of the stairs the hall split into two, so the two Stilinskis went left. The first door they came to opened easily. Inside was a crib, the walls were light purple, and the carpet a thick, plush moss green. Block letters spelling out Stiles’ name sat atop a bookcase stuffed with children’s fairtytales, but the weirdest part was how hazy the room appeared to Stiles. 

“Dad, do you see…?”  
“Yeah, it’s… misty?” the Sheriff replied, and slowly as they shuffled forward the room seemed to change, until John stopped abruptly after walking into a bed that he swore hadn’t been there before. The walls had deepened in colour, and become a midnight purple, almost blue. The carpet remained, but in place of the crib a queen bed appeared. That was what had stopped John from moving forward. 

“It’s changing,” Stiles whispered awed, and a little confused. 

As the room settled again, three bookshelves and a desk coming into solidity as it did so, John sported a thoughtful expression. 

“Dad?”

“I wonder,” he murmured, turning slowly in tight circle, and he closed his eyes as if thinking. The thin, fluttery curtains covering the window became thicker, warmer, and capable of blocking out light. 

“Did you just do magic?” Stiles asked him, stunned. 

His dad smiled and shook his head “I think the room is attuned to the person it’s meant for, and the people closest to them. After all, I don’t think I’d be incorrect in assuming that this would have been your room, Mischief.” 

“That’s so cool,” Stiles breathed out in astonishment, hesitantly sitting on the bed and gazing around, noticing the corkboard on the wall, the framed photo of himself and Scott on one of the bookcases. Confused he went over to the photo, picking it up. It wasn’t one he had a copy of himself, which meant that his mother had taken it, but forgotten to develop it for him. 

“Mica?” 

“I think she came back here, even as she was, you know, forgetting.” He turned to show his dad the photo. 

“I suppose it’s possible,” then he narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at his son “How often, Mica?” 

“I’m not sure, just that sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night and she’d be gone. No one would be home, so I’d wait for her to come back” he took the picture back and replaced it on the shelf. “That’s when I taught myself to make coffee” he confessed “She always seemed a bit more peaceful after wandering around at night, but I didn’t, I wouldn’t follow her. She caught me once and she was so terrified, it was like I’d driven her out of her mind with worry. I never did it again.” 

Stiles hugged himself, staring at the other photos on the shelf, frowning as his eyes flitted over the other smiling and happy faces. Him and his dad on Halloween when he’d dressed up as a Deputy. Him and his mom, grass stains on their clothes, and laughter making them dizzy as they danced to no music in the backyard. Him, Scott, Melissa, and his mom with a cake in front of them, celebrating Melissa’s birthday. His mom and dad, holding him after he was born. 

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind “It was not your fault, Mica. You couldn’t have stopped her. The poison, it was too much.”

“I… I know,” Stiles replied and for the first time ever, he thought that maybe he believed his own words, just a smidge, but it was better than nothing. The feeling of protection his mother had left him with after the nogitsune attack spread warmly throughout his body, praising him for his belief in himself. He turned to hug his dad back, and then with his dad’s arm slung over his shoulder, they proceeded to the next room, separated by a large linen closet, because of practicality. 

The master bedroom overlooked the front of the house, with a balcony and a small sitting room just inside off of the balcony. Chandeliers hung in the sitting room, making John roll his eyes at Claudia’s pretention, but the despite the grandeur of the space it still felt cozy and safe. This room didn’t change as they walked through it. There were pictures here too, and they paused to look at each one in turn. After peeking into the massive en suite bathroom, a larger version than the one in Stiles’ room, they headed back down the hallway. 

The right length of the hallway featured guest rooms, several of them distinctly decorated, obviously for pack members. There was one John would bet had been for Talia and Robert, another for Laura, and one for Derek. A room for Chris and Peter, and an undecorated one beside it, “For Allison, or I suppose, any kid they might have had,” Stiles commented looking around the room. 

“Is it just me, or is this hallway long?” the Sheriff commented, noticing several more rooms beyond the initial five rooms.

“I think it’s that she made our rooms so large,” Stiles spun around in another undecorated room, he thought the count for guest rooms was up to eleven or twelve at the moment, “Although these are certainly not small.”

“Magic, I guess” his dad stated, then he blinked “I can hardly believe that’s an explanation that I jump to now.” 

“You okay, dad?” Stiles had stopped spinning. 

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m just trying to picture what it would have been like…” John gestured at the room “I still can’t figure out how she built it though. I mean, I know the Hales have money, but they don’t seem to have had a hand in it, at least according to Peter. And it can’t just all be magic.” 

Stiles hummed in agreement, and both of them fell into a contemplative silence as they finished exploring the rest of the guest rooms, and a large loft like den at the end of the hallway. 

“I think there’s a basement too,” the Sheriff commented as they walked back down the stairs, “With the stuff that’s going on, I’m almost sure of it.”

“That would make sense, I mean where would the younger wolves go on a full moon, or where would they train if it rained?”

Just as they walked past the staircase, Stiles felt a slight draft of cool air, “Dad, I think there’s a door under the stairs.”

“I don’t see one,” John replied, then he stopped and tilted his head, “Maybe…” and he closed his eyes like he had back in Stiles’ room. A door took shape. “Magic is pretty cool.”

“Nice one, Pops!”

The basement, as Stiles had expected featured several spaces, the first of which was indeed a training room, but it was equipped beyond his expectations. 

“Oh. My. God!” Stiles barely had words to describe his shock. The training room stretched for what looked like the length of the house and longer. 

John let out a low whistle. In addition to the standard training mats there was a boxing ring, and an array of weapons locked into cases along the walls, from staffs to knives to axes and then weapons even he could not recognize. 

As they walked, slowly, down the length of the training mats the duo eventually came upon “Is that an archery range?” Stiles asked, shocked. 

“Yup, and a gun range, son.” John shook his head, “I don’t, I mean, what the absolute hell?” He rubbed a hand over his eyes as if the room would vanish. 

“This is like something out of the Hunger Games,” murmured Stiles. 

“This is… I…”

“Dad, it’s okay. I’m sure we’ll figure it,” Stiles brought his dad’s focus back onto himself, and after a moment or two, John stopped panicking. 

“I just…”

“It’s a bit much, yeah.” Stiles replied, chuckling. 

They headed back out to the main landing in the basement, and contemplated the remaining two doors. One led to another den, like the one on the second floor, a pool table, a television – out of date – but still awesome, and a ping pong table.

“Teenager paradise,” laughed John, “Your mom loved ping-pong.”

“Really?” Stiles asked. 

“Yup, she was a bit of a dork about it.”

“I knew the dork gene was genetic,” laughed Stiles. 

Eventually, there was just the last door remaining, but this room felt different. It radiated a different energy. When John went to open the door it wouldn’t turn, but the landing area got just a bit colder. 

“Mica,” John stepped back from the door, trying to keep his son behind him as the temperature dipped again, “Stay behind me.”

“It still feels like her, dad,” Stiles whispered, putting a comforting hand on his dad’s shoulder, “It’s just”

But whatever it was, Stiles wouldn’t get to complete his sentence, because a figure of his mother emerged from the door. At least he assumed it was his mother, he hadn’t known her when she was this young. 

“And who is it that seeks entrance to a Spark’s workroom?” The ghostly figure eyed them both, not in a challenging way, but she didn’t move either. 

“Umm,” Stiles wasn’t sure of the protocol for interacting with a shade, but he was pretty sure that was what this was, “Me, Spark Stilinski and my dad, Sheriff Stilinski.”

The head of the shade tilted, eyes narrowing slightly, then she looked at John. “You are a guardian?”

“Yes…?” John replied, his voice ending in a questioning tone. 

The shade folded her arms, and looked at him, unimpressed, “Are you a guardian of Beacon Hills or not?”

“Yes.”

The shade rolled her eyes, and then turned to Stiles, “Well met, young Spark… although I suppose we meet at some point in my future as well, for you to have that name.”

Stiles nodded cautiously, “Are you a shade?”

“A helper, a remnant of one passed, yes.”

“So, you don’t know us yet?”

The shade shook her head. “This was the first room I built when I started the cottage and I tied a shade to it, and only it. I’m a defense mechanism.”

“Like the Sphinx,” John ventured. 

Both Stiles and the shade looked at him, the shade smiling slightly “Yes, exactly like that.”

“So, may we enter?” John asked her, nodding at the room she was guarding. 

The shade’s face fell, “I’m not sure what happened to me, but the last time I was here, the real me, it was awful… if you enter, you need to know that while this room might hold answers for you it might also haunt you.”

Stiles reached out a hand to his dad who gripped his son’s hand tightly in return. 

“We still request entry,” Stiles responded.

The shade nodded, then passed through the locked door, disappearing. The landing was silent, until a minute click sounded. John pushed at the door that opened into a workroom that had obviously seen more use than the one off of the sun porch, but it was also in disarray. A corkboard wall featuring photos, names, maps, and red strings everywhere drew Stiles’ eyes. Books were open everywhere, papers on the floor, it was like a hurricane had ruffled everything just yesterday, but logically, they knew this had happened eight years ago. 

John moved slowly through the room, his eyes cataloguing the room, noting that it looked like it had been a functioning office until whatever had happened to it. A marble slab sat, pristine in the face of the rest of the room’s chaos, glowing softly. The shade Claudia popped up again as he went to touch it. 

“Do you know what that is?”

“A pensive?” John quipped back. 

“Somewhat, actually.”

“Seriously?” 

The shade nodded, “Not exactly a repository for all memories and thoughts, though I did have a vault for that, but this, this her memory stone. The properties of the marble keep the truth contained. This was my, her, way of keeping track of the person she was losing as her mind unravelled. Tread carefully, Sheriff.”

The shade melted again, seemingly gone again. 

“Dad, should we?” Stiles’ voice was curious but hesitant at the same time, “I mean, I want to know, but I’m not sure if seeing her, like that again…” Stiles trailed off, “What do you think?” 

Stiles’ voice was small and in that moment, he looked so damn young to John. The Sheriff took a moment to look at his son, really look at him, and he saw a scared young man, standing amongst the wreckage of his mother’s unconscious insanity and felt an intense desire to bundle Stiles up and away from the room. 

“I think, maybe we should leave, just for now” reaching out a hand to steer his son out and away. 

“I don’t want it to control me though, my fear,” whispered Stiles. 

John nodded, biting his lip, “I’ll be with you no matter what you decide,” he replied, putting a comforting hand on Stiles’ arm.

Slowly, Stiles reached out to touch the marble slab, and when his fingers were less than an inch away a lightning bolt arced, from him to the stone. The room around them swirled, and John pulled Stiles closer. 

The room righted itself and the door burst open, Claudia, the version John had come to know rushed into the room looking terrified, her hands shaking. A gust of wind whipped around the room, both men flinching although they couldn’t feel it. 

“No, no, no, no…” Claudia repeated the word over and over, her shaking hands knocking her carefully arranged office into disarray, her tone anguished. She pulled book after book from her bookshelves, flipping through them, tossing them aside just as quickly. Then, out of nowhere collapsed, groaning, “Get out of my head,” she growled, gnashing her teeth and it clicked for the two men that she was talking to the nogitsune. 

“Why should I bother?” That voice, the one Stiles had heard by the nemeton echoed in the room. 

“I hear it to, Mica.” John reassured his son who had startled badly at the voice. 

“What do you want? I can’t even remember who I am half the fucking time? Why me?”

“Why not, Crowe?” That voice came again, sickeningly sweet and cloying. It made Stiles shiver.

“I won’t, I won’t hurt them.”

“Oh, but you already have, and I’ve just let you forget, Claudia.”

“Get out!”

“I’m not letting you go again.”

“I’ll kill myself first,” threatened Claudia, a knife appearing in her hands from a side drawer. 

“What makes you think that would work?” taunted the nogitsune.

“Because this is real, this is real.” 

“Oh, yes, this is real. Just like your son, the one you left at home crying is real. You’re already doing so well, my sweet.”

“Shut up!” Claudia clapped her hands over her ears, dropping the knife “SHUT UP!”

“Do you remember, how good it felt, to no longer fear him, your father, your brother – killing them felt good, but it’ll be nothing compared to this feast.”

Claudia growled, ripping her hands from her ears to launch herself at the ragged figure of the nogitsune only to have the nightmarish figure replaced with… Stiles, smaller, younger, and so obviously, scared. The image wavered, it wasn’t real, Stiles wanted to yell at his mother that it wasn’t real, but he couldn’t work his voice. His father was also frozen beside him. 

“Go ahead, feed on it, Spark.” The nogitsune taunted her, as she scrambled back from her son, whining low in her throat, “We’ll have to work on that.” The image of Stiles vanished. 

“What, do you want?”

“I’ve already got it, you.”

Claudia swallowed back a sob.

“Please, please, I’ll go anywhere, do anything, just let me leave them be, please,” she pleaded the ragged figure.   
“No.”

She let out a cry of fear and rage, her eyes flashing purple as she cried out and the figure vanished. Claudia collapsed against the ground, crying, but suddenly, she pulled herself up again. 

“Hello?” her voice shook, then she took a deep breath, “Okay, okay, Claudia, remember last time. You can only hold him back for so long. Make use of this time.” Her hands fluttered over the floor, purple flashing again as the white marble slab appeared, then she placed her hands over it, imbuing the stone with her memories. 

Then she took the stone over to desk, leaving it there, and she started rummaging through her drawers, setting out a bowl, a candle, and picking up the knife from the floor, she snapped her fingers lighting the blade on fire, “Burning off the bacteria, not like you aren’t dying anyway,” muttered Claudia, then she made a cut on the top side of her left arm, cauterizing the wound at the same time. Three drops of blood fell into the bowl and then she lit the candle, pulling over a thick stack of papers as she did. 

“I, Claudia Stilinski, do so seal this last will and testament for my husband, my son, and wolf willing, my pack.”

The blood dripped over the letter, forming a seal with the candle wax. 

Her eyes flashed at the stack of papers, and they glowed for a moment. She shoved them underneath a series of books and then, as she reached for another book she winced and keened. 

“You’re weaker, Spark.” The nogitsune was back. “You can’t keep me out for long, Claudia.” She gripped the table tightly, clenching her eyes shut, but all the nogitsune did was laugh. 

The room swirled again, and the two Stilinski men found themselves back in the room.

The shade was back, she looked so sad. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Stiles shook his head at her, and just buried his face into his dad’s chest. They stood there, hugging for several moments, just reassuring themselves that they were okay, they were alive, and they were real. 

Once they broke apart, John looked to the shade, the image of the Claudia he never knew, the huntress, the protector, the emissary, “Can you, do you know, if it’s still here?”

She nodded, and pointed, the room glowed in a soft purple for a moment, then the sheaf of papers emerged from the wreckage on the floor, zooming over to John’s outstretched hand. 

“Is that it?” Stiles asked, voice rough from emotion, still attached to his dad. 

The shade shook her head, “Other memories exist in it, not all of them like that, but the stone, it shows you what you need.”

Stiles nodded, sniffling slightly. 

“Thank you,” Stiles told her.

“I wish I’d known you,” she murmured, “Call me when you return, Spark Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski.” She nodded at both of them and vanished from sight again. 

“I think we should open this upstairs,” John murmured to Stiles, who nodded, and together they left the room. Stiles paused as the door closed behind them, “It feels lighter now, it felt darker earlier, but now… I think we helped, dad.”

“I have no doubt, you did,” John ruffled Stiles’ hair affectionately, and they set off for the living room. 

“We did.”

“Okay, Mica, we did.”


	15. The Last Will and Testament of Claudia Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Stiles read Claudia's will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Stiles only sat once his father had, because he wanted to stay as close to his dad as possible.

John touched the seal on the papers softly, but at the light brush of fingers the papers opened, eight sealed envelopes, dropping from the within the folds, and John put the papers to the side for a moment to sort through the letters. Each one was addressed. 

The one closest to him was addressed to Chris, the word Singer scrawled on the back with a phone number. Stiles picked up the one addressed to Peter, flipping it over, to see a word scrawled over the flap, spymaster. He put it with Chris’s, “This one is for Derek, Talia, Melissa, Scott,” John’s voice shook, “Me… and you,” he placed Stiles’ into his son’s hands.

 “Later,” whispered Stiles, running his hands over the letter carefully then putting it to the side.

His dad nodded, picked up the papers, and was about to begin when the first word caught his eye. If he had been standing, John was sure he would have gone dizzy, because there in Claudia’s handwriting, was her nickname for him. Jay. She’d commented once early on while they were dating that while John was an ordinary name, he wasn’t an ordinary person. He’d shaken his head at her, but she’d started testing out nicknames that week, and she’d settled on Jay, like a bluejay after he’d picked her up for dinner in his dress uniform one night.

 “Dad, do you want me to read it?” Stiles asked, voice low and gentle.

 “It’s okay, Mica,” John cleared his throat, and began to read, _“Jay, if you’re reading this I am dead, or I left. I really hope it’s not the latter, but if it was, know this – I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to in order to protect you both. The most important thing right now is to believe me, please_.

_I’ve allocated the majority of my assets to you and Mica, but some will be going to people you’ve never met._

_Jay, I kept a lot from you, not on purpose, but I’m remembering me, who I was before us, our little family, every day now and I need you to know that I don’t regret any of it. I was a different person, but you, and Mica – you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been._

  _I’ve left you a series of journals that can explain everything better than this letter, so I’ll just go on to the asset breakdown._

  _I own five properties in the United States, one of which you’re sitting in at the moment if you’re reading this. The cottage was meant to be ours, but something happened, it’s a bit fuzzy to me even now. I’d love for it to pass along to Stiles when he’s of age._

_I have apartments in Boston, Los Angeles, and in New York City; they’re good rental properties and have been rented long-term for the past few years to good people. There’s a house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota; a friend of mine is taking care of that one for me right now._

_I also own a share in the Hale apartment complex; Peter Hale can explain why. I know you’re probably wondering how Peter and I know each other, but I swear my journals and your personal letter explain it all. Just know, that all of these properties pass on to you upon my demise or incapacitation. The legal components of these properties are all in Peter’s letter, and he can help you with the accounts affiliated with them._

_All rental payments were funneled into separate accounts. Peter’s letter will help him help you, and if he’s a little shit about it, just remind him that I don’t mind coming back to haunt him.”_

Stiles huffed out a laugh as did John.

_“I have no doubt that the circumstances that led to you finding my will were ordinary, Jay, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to keep you both safe. I just hope this helps, I only wish I hadn’t been unable to remember it until now.”_

As John’s eyes scanned the next few lines of the letter, he went silent.

“Dad? Dad?” Stiles sat up, worried, peering over his father’s arm to see what had stricken his father silent. “Oh my god,” whispered Stiles.

_“My father, may he rot in hell, may have been a bastard, but he hoarded money like a dragon. The Crowe family vault is located in South Dakota, in the care of my friend, Bobby. Part of it serves to help people who do the same type of work as Chris and me, but the other half is in trust for Mica, when he turns eighteen. I know personally, that there is nothing more freeing than access to money. I trust you to raise him right if I’m gone and teach him to value the right things so that all of this won’t go to his head, Jay.”_

“This isn’t happening,” muttered Stiles, but John just kept reading, incredulous. 

_“My mother, god rest her soul, left me money for a future neither of us ever thought I’d get, but in the event of my death it goes to you, and that’s in trust at a vault just outside of Beacon Hills. It’s for you and Mica, okay, Jay? Pay off the house, my hospital bills, whatever you need it for, it’s there and covered. Make it easier on yourself._

_There’s also my personal account, under my birth name, Claudia Crowe, damn alliteration I know. Chris knows where that’s located, if you ask him. He can tell you what it’s for. Half of that is for Mica’s education, Jay, because we both know he’s a smart kid, and that if he gets the chance, he’ll go far. Let me help take him there. The other half is for you, do with it what you will._

_I’ve left several gifts of money to family – people you’ve never met -- and now that you’ve opened my will, those amounts will be sent out to the people who were supposed to receive them._

_Finally, my magic, I gift it to my son, Mieczyslaw, who will be a Spark to put all others of our lineage to shame. Maybe even me._

_I know that last part sounds crazy, Jay, or maybe it doesn’t, maybe you know now._

_That’s it, my last will and testament._

_I love you, Jay._

_Give Mica a hug from me.”_

Claudia’s signature was a flourish at the bottom.

“What the hell?” John muttered, eyes running back over the paper, “How?”

He put the letter down, pressing his hands against his eyes, as if trying to clear them.

“This has got to be… it can’t be… there’s no way…”

Stiles was shocked by his dad’s reaction, sure, finding out that your dead wife had realized she had money would floor anyone, but this was something different. The image of his dad’s binder with the star on it floated to the front of Stiles’ mind, and he got it “Dad?”

John’s eyes were closed, because he felt like if he opened them he’d find out it had all been a dream. “What didn’t I have in the binder, Dad?” Stiles asked, quietly.

“The house,” John’s voice shook, “We were going to lose it, it was collateral for your mom’s hospital loans and this being a small town, the bank bent some rules, which is why there wasn’t really a paper trail, but we were getting so damn close.” 

“We should call, Peter,” Stiles replied, “He seems to know about this stuff, Chris too.”

John sat up, opening his eyes, nodding at Stiles’ words. Then, before pulling out his phone, he pulled Stiles into a tight hug. 

“It’s going to be okay, Mica. We’re going to be okay.”


	16. Allison's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison, Chris, and Peter join John and Stiles at the cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Peter and Chris were sitting in Chris’ study, in the house that still didn’t feel like home to Chris even after a few months. Each of them were silent, having spent several hours talking, arguing, and planning. They wanted to try again, the two of them. 

Allison didn’t appear like she was going to have a problem with it.

Neither did Derek.

But still, Peter wanted to tread carefully. He’d been feral for some time. He’d done horrible things. He wasn’t the same person.

Chris didn’t care. For once he wanted to be reckless and just plunge back into the life he’d been building with the wolf, but he understood, he really did. So, he’d agreed. They would start slow. 

Chris had no doubts. Peter’s wolf still acknowledged him as a potential mate. Chris wasn’t worried. 

Peter wanted it all back. Since his memories had returned all he’d wanted was to continue building his new life with Chris and now, Allison too. But he was afraid. 

“I miss her,” Peter murmured.

Chris didn’t have to ask to know that Peter was talking about Claudia. 

“I do too.” 

“She’d tell me I’m being silly,” Peter continued speaking, tone contemplative. 

“And she’d tell me to respect your boundaries,” Chris interjected “I think we can make her proud, don’t you?”

Peter smiled at Chris. Chris smiled back.

Then Peter’s phone rang. 

“This is Peter Hale.”

Peter’s eyebrows rose, then he opened his mouth in surprise, and after telling the person who’d called that he’d “Be there soon” and hanging up, Peter face palmed. “I can’t believe it, after everything, I forgot about this.”

“Uh, Pete?”

“Shit, Chris,” Peter replied, flustered, obviously distracted, “Stiles and John were at the cottage, they found Claudia’s will and since I was her lawyer I handled all of it, and I forgot about the vaults and trust funds.”

“Oh, yeah…” Chris responded “Shoot. You going to meet them?”

“Actually, they’ve got something for both of us so, do you want to come?”

Chris didn’t blink, just nodded and called out for Allison, as they left the study. 

“What’s up?” Allison called from the top of the stairs, “Is it date night already?” 

Chris snorted at her, while he noticed that Peter shuffled a bit, seemingly unsure. Allison noticed it too, so she flounced downstairs to lean against the bannister “My dad was never this happy around Victoria, so as long as that continues I don’t have a problem with you, Peter. I also should take this opportunity to apologize for almost killing you that one time with Kate.”

Chris squawked, but Peter shushed him, “I was out of my mind, it only made sense at the time, little Argent.”

“So, are we cool?”

“You’ve been hanging out with Stiles too much” muttered Chris.

Allison smirked.

“I would say so,” Peter replied.

“So, where are you heading?”

“Back to the cottage, John and Stiles found some stuff that Claudia left us. Want to come along?”

Allison nodded eagerly, grabbing a coat and slipping on her shoes. 

The trio left in a flurry of light hearted laughter and smiles. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

Stiles was the one to meet them at the front door of the cottage. Peter scented the air briefly, smelling a cocktail of emotions including sadness and anxiety. He fixed Stiles with a look, “Just tell him it’s real, please.” That was all the young spark said as he led Peter to the kitchen where his father was poring over miscellaneous paperwork. Peter tossed his jacket over the chair and settled in, reviewing the papers John shoved in his direction.

John slid Chris his letter as Peter reviewed Claudia’s will. Chris looked at it, then John, and Peter. He shrugged, then flipped over the letter, eyebrows skyrocketing briefly then he slit open the letter and began to read. 

Peter pulled out his phone, and made a call, not explaining anything to John who just looked exhausted. 

Allison joined Stiles at the counter, as he watched his dad. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, thanks for coming with them. I could use a friend right now.”

Allison bumped Stiles with her shoulder. 

“So, I’m your friend now?” she teased.

Stiles’ eyes widened slightly, and then he turned to look at Allison, “I suppose so.” He smiled hesitantly. 

“Rad.” Allison pointed finger guns at him.

He laughed, and did them back. 

Shooting another look at the table, Stiles decided to show Allison some of the stuff they’d found. “Come on, I want to show you something.” 

Peter’s eyes flicked up as they left, nodding at the two teens as they headed out of the kitchen. John was still staring at the ceiling, trying to process what Peter was telling him. 

Allison followed him upstairs, commenting on how Lydia would think the stairs would be awesome for prom pictures. Stiles chuckled, “And what about you?”

“I think they’d be good for them too, but I probably wouldn’t say it out loud. I can be tough and go to prom, thank you very much.”

“I don’t doubt it, Ally.”

“So, what are you going to show me, Stiles?”

He stopped at a door, and gestured for her to open it and walk into the room. Allison paused, but only for a moment, and then opened the door. She stepped inside, feeling for a light switch, and flicked it on, gasping in delight. “Wow!”

Stiles peeked in from the hallway, leaning on the door frame as Allison walked into the room. 

The room, which had been neutrally outfitted earlier, when Stiles and his dad had explored the upstairs, now featured blush coloured walls, a navy comforter with crimson arrows stitched into it spread out over the queen bed. The bed itself had an iron headboard with interlocking roses and vines. 

Almond coloured wood furniture took up space, two bedside tables, a desk, and a set of drawers were scattered throughout the room at appropriate locations. The desk was long, and slightly taller than normal. Allison walked over to it, running her hand over it. “This is the exact height my table in dad’s workshop is at the house. 

Stiles nodded, understanding the height of the desk now. He also noticed that Allison didn’t call her house, home. 

“Whose room is this?” Allison asked. 

“Do you like it?” Stiles queried, not answering her question. 

“Yes, it’s awesome! But, who does it belong to?”

“You.”

“What?”

“Dad, and I were wandering around this morning, and as we checked out each room I got a” he fluttered his fingers in the air, “feeling about each room. My mom, tied some of her magic to each room to equip each room with what its main occupant might require, controlled to some extent by the people who care for them. Dad, switched up my curtains.”

“Stiles, are you saying…”

“I think my mom anticipated your dad and Peter having at least one kid, so that room” Stiles tilted his head to the side, “Belongs to them. She wanted everyone together.”

“We were supposed to grow up together,” murmured Allison, her voice a little shaky. 

“Ally?” Stiles moved over to her, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”

Allison threw her arms around Stiles, hugging him tightly, “I wish we’d been able to do that” she told him once she let him go. 

“You’re not the only one,” Chris spoke from the doorway, where he was leaning, “I told your dad I’d track you two down, make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble,” he looked to Stiles, “Peter’s explaining the finer points of some of the property ownerships to him. They’re real, Stiles.”

“Thanks, uh…” 

“Call me, Chris.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

“Umm, is anyone going to clue me in on everything?” Stiles chuckled at Allison’s interjection, but Chris was the one who answered his daughter. 

“Claudia left some legal and financial matters for John to claim and since Peter was her lawyer, he’s the best person to clear it all up for him.”

“And the room?” Allison asked.

“That, do you have an idea, Stiles?”

“Um, yeah.” Surprised at being asked his opinion, but recovering easily Stiles re-explained his theory to Chris. 

“That sounds like something Clau would have done. All of us living here would have been crazy, but it’s large enough that we wouldn’t have wanted to suffocate each other on a daily basis.” He looked at Allison, who was still gazing around at the room, looking brighter and lighter than she had lately. 

He wondered if, maybe they could have this, if they could rebuild the pack the way it was supposed to be. 

Little did he know, Stiles was already trying to figure out how he could keep that content expression on Chris’ face. His mom had wanted her pack to be happy and safe, well, so did he. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

“So, it’s real?”

“Completely. We could move on it today, John.”

“Yeah, that would be best. How do I explain it though?”

“I’ll take care of that,” John looked at Peter, eyes narrowed, “Nothing illegal or even borderline, I swear on my pack.”

“Our pack,” John corrected him automatically, then blinked, “I can’t believe this is my life.”

“You better believe it, Sheriff.”

John pushed a letter toward Peter, “She left this for you, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to head out now?” John looked up.

“Stiles is showing Allison her room,” Peter stopped talking then.

“Relax, Hale, I figured with the layout and the personalization aspects of the rooms that she wanted this to be a safe place for the pack. I’m not surprised she gave you and Chris a room for your kid.”

“She’s a good kid. Yours too.”

“They are.”

“Are you thinking about it?”

“About what?”

“Moving.”

“Moving in here? Yeah… there’s something about it that’s calming.”

“Well, why don’t we get your house sorted out first and then we can figure that out later, John.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll let Chris know we’ll be back soon, if that’s okay?”

John nodded, gathering up some of the papers. Peter reached inside himself, and slowly, testing the mate bond tentatively, he sent along a message to Chris. 

Allison and Stiles were exploring the walk-in-closet, Allison exclaiming over the quiver storage section when Chris felt Peter slot into his mind. He leaned against the doorway, a little weak in the knees that Peter felt comfortable enough to use their old bond, but he forced himself to listen to the message. He sent a pulse of acknowledgement and reassurance back along their bond. 

Downstairs, Peter grinned. Even after all this time, he could make Chris flustered. He loved it. 

“Can you really hear them, all the way down here?” John asked Peter. 

“If the door was closed I wouldn’t be able to. Clau definitely soundproofed the rooms, but I can still hear their heartbeats and I have no doubt that if one of them were to collapse or something the wards would drop to help us protect them. She was very… inventive with her spellcrafting.”

“She was intense, wasn’t she?”

“You knew her as well John, don’t think that you didn’t,” Peter replied “She was herself with you in a way she never could be with us. She didn’t have everything weighing her down, until the end.”

“Thanks, thanks, Peter.”

“You’re welcome.”


	17. We all miss her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter lets John in on some of Claudia's history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf

Three hours later, Peter was driving Chris’ car back from the bank. John had been able to not only settle his mortgage, but Claudia’s hospital bills and, upon Peter’s insistence the Sheriff had made some rather shrewd investments with one of Claudia’s trusts. They’d touched base with the vault company, that Claudia had kept her mother’s money in and it had all passed over to John now. 

He knew he had to check with Chris about the hunter money Claudia had mentioned, but at the moment, all he could do was periodically check that he had five fingers on each hand. 

“You’re not dreaming, John.” Peter commented as he turned back down the road to the cottage, pulling up outside he turned the car off and looked at the Sheriff, “Do you want to arrange viewings of the properties? We could do them virtually if leaving is a problem.” John still didn’t speak. 

“You know, it’s super unsettling to have a silent Stilinski on hand, John.” The Sheriff huffed, not really laughing, but a response was something. “She wanted to tell you everything, right off the bat, but she didn’t, and that’s my fault.”

John blinked and turned to look at the wolf, confused “But she was the one who tried to tell me, you had nothing to” Peter put up a hand “No, before all of that. When you first met, she came back to mine and Talia’s apartment happy. I’d known her for two years at that point, but I’d never smelled her happy.” Peter grimaced a bit at his own phrasing, “It’s a wolf thing, different emotions smell differently, but strong emotions smell differently for each person too. So, she came in ‘happy’ and I’d seen her be proud, content, kind, angry, but happy, never. You made her happy.”

“What happened?” John asked.

“Well, we asked about it, we knew she’d spent time with someone new and she’d just moved to her new apartment, the one”  
“Down the street from the police academy” John filled in. 

“She told us how you met, but she skillfully kept all kinds of relevant information out, like your name, what you looked like, and she put on perfume that she hated before she came over so we couldn’t catch your scent. She was damn crafty.”

“You admired her a lot,” John commented.

“I loved her like a sister, John and we all miss her.”

“I wasn’t implying”

“I know, but just so you know. Oh, and it was mostly the same for Chris.”

John narrowed his eyes at Peter “He had a bit of hero worship for her, but after a super awkward kiss on her birthday he turned into the best brother a girl could want overnight. He’s going to hate that I told you that,” the wolf laughed. Then he continued his story, “After Talia and Chris went out to grab food, I asked her about it the person she’d met. I knew she’d met someone, Tal just though she was messing with us. That was the first time and last time she ever tried to lie to my face.”

“Why would she lie?”

“Because, for a Spark, love and trust – they’re practically the same thing, but falling in love that’s a whole other ballgame.”

“But we’d just met,” Peter cut John off with a look. 

“She was willing to fall in love with you, something she had never considered, never ever. But it’s dangerous. I wanted her to never see you again.”

John glared but Peter kept talking, “The thing is, love could kill her. If you had rejected her, left her, and she had gotten too attached. It’s a Spark thing, one of the few things I knew about Sparks before meeting her.”

John let out a pained sound, drawing Peter’s attention “Did it hurt her?”

“No, no. But it could have, you didn’t leave though and she fell in love, but I was scared for her and unsettled. I don’t regret fighting with her about it, because she knew I’d always put her well-being ahead of yours and I think that helped her. But, I’m not unhappy to know you, John. She loved you. Honour that, but listen to her. Read her letter; it will help.”


	18. Singer from South Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this turned into a crossover and I'm not sorry. Welcome, Bobby Singer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf.

Chris, Peter, and Allison stayed for dinner. Stiles and Allison joked around as they cut up vegetables and Chris prepped chicken for a stir-fry. Peter was still flipping through documents, but he had assured John that he would create a basic summary for him later.

The Sheriff wasn’t sure when he’d decided to trust the wolf, but he did. So, after checking in on the controlled activity in the kitchen he slipped off to what would have been his office, sinking into the chair Claudia had selected for his desk. He brought out her letter, and unfolded it.

 

The first sheet inside was dated five months after they had met.

_Jay,_

_I don’t know how to start this, but you deserve to know everything I know last night wasn’t the best time to try and explain everything, but calling me crazy just got to me. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but I’ve been crazy. I’m not anymore thank goodness, but it’s still a sore point with me._

_Everything I said last night was true. I’m a magical being. I’m called a Spark. We’re a rare magical race, and I’m the only one I can find record of in the past century. Sometimes the magic travels through families or it’ll simply settle on a good soul. That’s what my mother told me anyhow. I’m not sure how much of that I believe, because I am far from a good soul._

_You might wonder why I am telling you this now, well… I’m in love with you. And dammit, Peter was right, it’s so dangerous, but I don’t care. I never thought I’d have a family again after mine, but then I found Talia, Robert, Chris, and Peter. And then, I found you. I started thinking about the future and here we are, with me in love with you._

_I would go the ends of the earth for you, but you deserve to know me, about me, before we go any further. If we parted ways now or even down the line it wouldn’t hurt you in the same way it would hurt me, and I’d be okay with that. It would be my penance for believing that I deserve this, but I want it, so badly, Jay._

_I’ve killed people, John. So many. Bad people, but still, you’re an officer of the law. I know how to hide bodies. I know how to hustle cash to survive. I’ve stolen when necessary. I know how to torture if the situation calls for it. I am not a good person._

_If you’re still reading this, I’ve probably also left a journal in your care, from my tenth year, June 3 rdwill provide you an example of who I am. Who I’ve had to be to stay alive. _

_If you can still love me after reading that, we should talk._

_Love always,_

_Claudia_

John put the page down, taking a deep breath. He’d known logically that his wife had killed before, hell, her journal from the end of her life had been enough to remind him that she had been trained to be a deadly weapon. He still loved her though, and he wondered what that said about him.

 

A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” he called, tiredly.

Chris Argent entered slowly.

“Dinner won’t be for a bit. Peter got into a heated phone call with someone that’ll take some time.”

John waved away the excuse “Hell, you’re both being so helpful I have no room to complain.”

Chris noticed the letter then “Is there anything I can clarify for you?”

“Actually, yes, there is. Take a seat, Chris.”  
  


The hunter hesitated for a moment then sat down, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“I’m not interrogating you, but you know what her life was like before probably better than anyone and I’m not sure I can stomach reading another journal of hers tonight. So, what does being a hunter entail?”

Chris was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Clau, was more connected to the community at large than I ever was, probably due to the ages that she ended up completing certain hunting tasks.”

“Like a series of initiations?”

“Something like that,” Chris replied. “Look, her father was a bastard. I saw the will, I wouldn’t doubt that he’s actually rotting in hell. He didn’t want children, he wanted soldiers and he raised her and her brother in that life. She hated it but she did it for her father, because until she turned ten she believed that in some way he loved them.”

“June 3rd right?”

Chris nodded “From what she told us, her mother worked late nights, hardly saw the family, but she had a soft spot for Claudia. And usually, Jeffrey didn’t give a damn about them spending time together as long as Claudia completed her tasks for the day, but Helena was getting anxious. And Claudia was getting suspicious about her parents’ marriage, about why her mom wore more makeup after they argued… and eventually she put two and two together.”

“And her father found out?”

“Yeah. He was supposed to be out with Matthew on a hunt and Claudia had put together a plan to get her mom out, but she hadn’t counted on her dad coming home early. Helena was a hunter too, but gave it up when she had kids. It was violent. Matthew kept Claudia restrained while it happened. It’s how she broke her left arm for the first time. After everything settled, Helena was dead, Claudia became the runt of sorts in the family, and they picked up and moved. Most hunter families don’t stay anywhere too long.”

“She wrote in her letter that her journal from ten would tell me what kind of person she was, why…?”  
  


“She thought it was her fault. She didn’t die in her mother’s place. Guilt was a real problem for her. She only killed when there was no other choice, but every death pained her.”

“She was a good person.”

“She was,” Chris agreed, “I’d never met a hunter like her,” his voice took on a wistful tone as he smiled softly. “Somehow, even with all of the pain and suffering she’d gone through she lived by a code all her own and it sounded so much better than ours.”

“After her mother, she started hunting?”

“Probably before that, but yeah. Jeff put her in the field more often after that. He probably hoped something would take care of her for him, but she just became faster, stronger, better. The nogitsune was a plan he and Matthew hatched to get her out of the way – she stayed with them out of a sense of loyalty to the family she had once loved and the people her mother had also loved once. They didn’t anticipate that she would kill them. Idiots.”

“And after she met Talia?”

“I got her to bring me along when she snuck out in the middle of the night to save the world,” Chris smiled again, “She was a force of nature. I’m from a hunter family, and my upbringing was cold and clinical, but I had nothing on the sheer power she brought to her jobs”

“You admired her.”

“I don’t know how you could know her and not admire her,” Chris replied easily, “I was never going to have a shot with her; I know what Peter told you. She was like our sister, I just had to get to that place first.”

John snorted lightly.

“She hunted solo every summer after school ended. She built up connections and a community.”

“Singer,” John said, “The name on the back of your letter, is that one of her connections.”

“Yeah, Bobby Singer. A bit of a fucking legend in his own right. I have no idea how they knew each other, but he doesn’t give out his number to just anyone. Although I guess, her being Little Red wouldn’t have hurt.”

At John’s confused look Chris laughed, “She used to wear a dark red cape when she hunted; it was gifted to her by Talia and Peter on her first birthday with the pack. She used the nickname for her consulting business – the funds from that are what’s in that vault in South Dakota I figure and her personal account is there too. I’m guessing it’s under the care of Bobby if he’s still kicking.”

“You ever met this Singer?”

“Never had the privilege.”

“You got that letter on you?” Chris pulled it out, passing it over.

“You’ve got more to read you know,” Chris nodded at John’s letter.

“I know, I get the feeling she added to it every time she felt insecure about what she was doing,” he touched the small stack of papers.

He pulled his phone out and dialled the number on the back of Chris’ letter, the hunter watching with a mixture of awe and curiosity. 

It only rang once before it picked up.

“Clau?”

“Is this Bobby Singer?”

“Who the hell is this?”

“Are you Bobby Singer?” Silence. “This is Sheriff John Stilinski.” Silence then, two words.

“What happened?”

John put the phone on speaker.

“Are you Bobby Singer?”

“Yes. Why are you calling?”

“Claudia left your number on the back of a letter for a friend.”

“And which friend would that be?”

“Chris Argent,” John replied, shrugging at Chris unsure of how this phone call was going.

“Argent, eh? He there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here, Mr. Singer.”

John chuckled at Chris’ nerves.

“What do mean she left you my number?”

John paused, “She’s dead.”

“Shit.” Bobby’s voice lost its confrontational and gruff tone. “I’m sorry. When?”

“Eight years ago.”

“What?” A new voice entered the conversation on Bobby’s end.

“Hush,” Bobby told the newcomer, “Why are you calling now then, if you don’t mind me asking Sheriff?”

“Well, we’ve only come into her supernaturally inclined belongings recently and that includes leaving your number with Chris.” 

“Argent? Your sister and father dead?”

“Umm, yes. My wife too.”

“Good, less evil to hunt in the area” muttered a second new voice.

“Shut up!” Bobby told the other newcomer, “I can be there as soon as possible. I’m assuming you want her vault and what else she left here.”

John was shocked, unsure of what to say.

“I wouldn’t mind checking out the area either, she’d haunt my ass if you or your kid were in danger. We’re on the same side, Sheriff.” Bobby paused. “I won’t bother the pack. I know about it.”

“I’d have to pass it by…”

“The Alpha, yeah I figured. Look we’ll drive to the edge of the territory by tomorrow morning and if we can come through, you let us know." 

“Us?” Chris asked.

“He’s not going anywhere without us, Argent. Not that we don’t trust you, but we don’t. And I’m sure you know that we Winchesters aren’t to be crossed lightly.” With that someone who wasn’t Bobby finished speaking and hung up the phone.

 

Chris went pale.

“Chris?”

“The Winchesters are coming here?”

“What?!” This time it was Stiles at the door, dinner finally done. “Dad?” 

“Apparently… who are they?” But the name had triggered something in John’s memory. “They’re hunters, aren’t they?”

“Legendary ones. They have Angels on their side. The former king of Hell. They’ve been vessels for archangels,” Stiles replied, “and they’re coming here, why?”

“They knew your mom.”

“Of course,” Stiles laughed, slightly hysterical.

“I’m calling Derek,” John told them, “Start without me. I’ll be right there.”

Chris left, guiding Stiles away, while John dialled his Alpha’s number, praying the young man would understand.

“John?”

“Derek.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Claudia left letters for the pack, including you and Talia. Chris’ had a number on the back. It belongs to a hunter who’s driving down as we speak. He wants to check in on everything.”

Derek was quiet.

“He says he knows about the pack, but he won’t come onto your territory unless…”

“Unless I grant him permission. A hunter with morals, the only kind Claudia would have associated with. Who is it?”

“Bobby Singer… and the Winchesters.”

Derek swore under his breath.

“Derek?”

“Singer… I don’t have a problem with, but the Winchesters? Dammit, she never did anything by halves. I want to meet with you. I want to set ground rules from the get go, but they can come.”

“Thank you.”


	19. Damn, that Jeep still runs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding. All of the bonding! Bobby, Sam, and Dean arrive!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

John had Stiles sleep at the cottage that night. It helped his argument that he, Chris, Peter, and Derek had gathered to discuss the incoming hunters. With pack around, Stiles was less likely to refuse to sleep and take care of himself. Allison stayed over too. 

As the adults talked, the young huntress tossed and turned in her bed. She wasn’t uncomfortable and she was certainly tired, but she couldn’t sleep. After rolling over again in an attempt to make herself sleep she slipped out of her room quietly on reflex, despite knowing both Peter and Derek could hear her. She knocked on Stiles’ door, unsurprised when the door opened at her knock. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, standing a bit awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Same,” Stiles told her from where he was sitting on his window seat, “Come on in, Ally.”

She closed the door behind her, and came over, taking up the side across from him. 

“How’re you doing?” Stiles asked her, quietly. 

“You want to narrow down that question a bit?”

“Peter, your mom, your grandfather…”

“Well, I’m surprisingly fine with Peter. He makes dad happy; I like that. As for Victoria, it’s not the same Stiles. We never connected like you and your mom. I was an heir, a means to an end. Same goes for Gerard.”

“Still, it’s a helluva lot of trauma for a seventeen-year-old.”

“I suppose so” Allison paused, choosing her words carefully “but it’s not like I’m alone with it, right? I’ve got my dad, Scott, Lydia… and you too.”

“You definitely do, Ally.” Stiles reached over to ruffle her hair, drawing a laugh from the other teen. 

“What about you?” whispered Allison.

“I, I don’t know…” Stiles admitted. 

“That’s okay, Stiles.” He shook his head.

“But it’s really not, Ally.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, but she didn’t want to leave Stiles to his own thoughts.

“Tell me about her. Please.”

Her question drew Stiles from his memories. He stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. 

“She loved fairy tales. We used to spend hours playing pretend” he murmured, “but now I wonder how many of those tales were real. I feel like I knew her, but I didn’t at the same time.”

“She loved you a lot, from everything I’ve heard.”

“But was it worth it? Was I worth it? Was dad? Were we?”

Allison leaned forward, grasping Stiles hands that were opening and closing tightly, “Yes. You were worth it to her. Don’t ever think you weren’t. Don’t second guess her, Stiles.”

There was a beat of silence, then Stiles’ hands relaxed and Allison let him go. 

“I see it now,” he said, quietly. 

“What?” Allison asked.

“Why Scott loves you.”

Allison raised her eyebrows at him. 

“I’m not hitting on you, Ally.” Stiles chuckled, “But you care and you’re more than you think, Argent.”

“Thanks Stilinski,” she knocked a foot against his knee, “You too.”

They stared out at the stars and slowly, they both fell asleep. The window seat reshaping itself so that they wouldn’t have cricks in their necks the next morning. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

Sunday morning dawned bright and John woke up slowly, slightly confused by his surroundings. Then he remembered he was in the room Claudia had picked out for them in the cottage, except it was definitely a different room from the other day. This room was cozier and less ostentatious. 

He shook his head, “Seriously, Claudia?” he spoke aloud. 

The room no longer had chandeliers or a sitting room. It was almost like the room they’d shared for several months before she’d gone out to Beacon Hills. He smiled, the memory of that time less painful than he’d thought it would be. 

After a shower and changing his clothes, somehow the drawers here held his clothes from the house. He decided not to think too hard about the magic aspect of the cottage. “I suppose it’s more of a mansion” he said to himself as he walked out into the hallway, running into Chris who was about to head downstairs. 

“Allison still asleep?” 

Chris nodded, “She’s in with Stiles.”

John’s forehead scrunched up, “I think she’s still feeling a bit sad about not having grown up with friends.” John nodded in understanding. 

He paused then, heading over to Stiles’ room and peeking in to see his son, and Allison stretched out on opposite ends of the window seat. They were sleeping soundly and John had no intention of disturbing them. He ducked out and followed Chris downstairs. 

As they worked side by side in the kitchen, John making coffee and Chris cutting up bread, John decided to speak, “On that note, Allison has a room here, you and Peter do too – if you two decide to pursue that again – which is none of my business” Chris coughed, flustered, “But Claudia, wanted you to have a space here. So, consider this your home too, if you want it.”

Chris stopped with his work to turn and look at John.

“Don’t argue with me, Argent. I know if I didn’t offer this to you now, Stiles would do it later. Plus, we might find ourselves here more often too.”

“I’ll have to talk it over with Ally.”

“She’ll say yes,” Peter interjected, sweeping into the kitchen, taking a cup of coffee from John with a muttered thank you, “She feels calmer here than your house.”

“Perimeter clear?” Chris asked, avoiding Peter’s comments.

“Yup. Derek’s coming by later, again. But don’t avoid the conversation, Christopher.”

Chris shook his head, and continued cutting up bread for grilled cheeses. 

Peter shrugged, and settled down at the table when John’s phone rang. “Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Sheriff, it’s Bobby.” 

“Singer. The drive going well?”

“As well as it can with my boys causing a ruckus. We’re at a truck stop just an hour or two out from your town, you got an answer for me?”

“Alpha Hale has granted you passage, but he wants to meet you at the town limits and he’s got ground rules.”  
“Sounds fair. We’ll see you in about an hour then.” The call disconnected.

“An hour isn’t that long,” Peter commented.

“How, oh wait, werewolf senses,” John rolled his eyes, “No, it’s not.”

“Derek’s on his way. He’ll want to come with you.”

“Go with you where?” A ruffled Stiles appeared in the doorway, Ally just behind him, both in their pjs looking sleepy but content. The adults took a moment to remember how young the younger members of the pack truly were.

“Bobby Singer’s on his way into town, and I’m going to meet him with Derek.”

Stiles tilted his head, “You look like one of the puppies,” Allison teased him and as she headed over to her dad, patting Peter on the shoulder as she passed by.

He stuck his tongue at her, playful. Then tossed his keys onto the counter, “Take the Jeep.”

“Why?” Peter asked, taking the question right out of John’s mouth. 

“Bobby Singer owns Singer Salvage.” Stiles replied, pulling plates out of the cupboard. 

“And?” Allison prompted him.

“Well, mom always said she got her car from a friend. Someone who was the only person who could fix up Roscoe properly except for her. I think she got it from Singer.”

“That’s one helluva deduction, Stiles.” Chris stated, tone amused. 

“What can I say? I get from my Pops, he’s in law enforcement.”

John snorted into his coffee, smiling at his son. 

“Alright, I’ll take the Jeep.”

“Be safe, dad.”

“Always, kid.” 

Derek ended up at the door just as John finished his coffee. 

“Things are never quiet around here, are they?” the Alpha commented, nodding at John, but there was no gruffness or anger in his tone. 

“Not a chance, Derek.”  
“Somehow that’s actually reassuring to me.”

“Come on, they’ll be at the town limits in a bit, but breakfast is being made so come eat.”

“Morning,” Chris called out to him, Peter nodding in his nephew’s direction, Allison was flipping the sandwiches under Stiles’ direction so neither of them acknowledged him yet. Derek accepted the coffee John passed him, and started talking with his uncle. 

Chris dished out plates of sandwiches, and eventually, Allison and Stiles greeted their Alpha, sitting down to eat. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

“I don’t like this,” Dean griped from the front seat of the Impala as Bobby made some calls, “We don’t even know if she’s actually dead, Sammy. This could all be a trap.”

“Dean, we’ve been over this. It would make sense. Of all the people we know, Claudia was never the type of person to up and disappear.”

“Or maybe she just left, like everyone else,” muttered Dean, under his breath. 

“You don’t believe that,” Sam responded. 

“She lived with werewolves, Sam. The things we usually roll in and take care of.”

“They’re not traditional werewolves; they’re loup garou,” Bobby interjected as he got back into the car. 

“Those are just the French words for werewolf, Bobby” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, but they also apply to the type of werewolf that is mainly human, and not controlled by their inner wolf. Claudia wasn’t stupid; she wouldn’t have joined a pack if they were dangerous. You both bear that in mind when we meet this Alpha Hale, or I’ll do a ritual and get her to haunt you both.”

Dean frowned, but shut his mouth, while Sam nodded. 

“Good, I’m glad we understand each other. They’ll be here soon, boys. Just let me do the talking.”

They waited in silence, until Bobby gasped, “Well, I’ll be damned. That damn Jeep still runs,” he murmured as the light blue Jeep came into view. He stepped out of the car as the Jeep pulled up about ten feet away from the turn off. 

“Dean,” Sam muttered as his brother stayed in his seat, “Dean, get out of the car.” 

Dean paused, then threw open the door, keeping his gun in view. Glaring at the two men that had exited the Jeep. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and walked forward with Bobby, who was going to meet the two Beacon Hills residents. 

“Sheriff?” Bobby asked, putting out a hand to the man he figured was John Stilinski.

“John, please. You’re Bobby?”

“That’s right,” he turned to Derek, “And you’d be Alpha Hale, correct?”

“That’s right, Mr. Singer.”

He shook Derek’s hand. Dean scoffed behind him, but winced when Sam elbowed him. 

“Ignore the boys. They just didn’t want me coming alone. And you can call me, Bobby.”

“Then call me Derek. I completely understand, family shouldn’t let anyone go anywhere unprotected.”

“I’m Sam Winchester, Alpha Hale.”

“Good to meet you, Sam. But, Derek’s fine, for both of you.”

“That’s Dean,” Sam nodded at his brother. 

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” John stepped in before Dean could react, “I’m not sure there’s much we can answer for you since we’re just getting into it all now, but you’re welcome to stay with us in town.”

“That’s a mighty fine offer,” Bobby replied, “We’ll think about it.”

“Of course,” John responded, then he turned back to the Jeep, “You can follow us back to Claudia’s cottage.”

“She really built it?” Dean’s question surprised everyone present.

“She did.” 

“Is she really dead?”

“Yeah…” John replied, voice a bit shaky.

“How?”

“Dean,” Sam muttered, trying to reign his brother in.

“How do we know one of them didn’t kill her, Sam?” He gestured at Derek.

“Boy, I would suggest you stop talking,” Bobby growled at Dean.

“No, I get the knee jerk reaction,” Derek intervened, “but Claudia died courtesy of a druid and hunters, not a werewolf.”

“We have journals to prove it, along with a memory stone,” John added, angling his body slightly in front of his Alpha. Not that Derek needed protection, but John felt fond of the young man and wanted to make it clear that he would stand between these hunters and his pack. 

Something in the grief on Derek’s and John’s faces stopped Dean from pushing them. He’d seen eyes like that before, haunted and grieving, more often than not on his own face in the mirror. 

He dropped his hand from where it had been resting on his gun. 

“I’m sorry.”

“We’ll follow you into town,” Bobby told the Sheriff and the Alpha, “Actually, how about I ride with you, if you don’t mind? I’d love to see how Roscoe still runs.”

“Sure,” John replied, “Stiles figured you were the one who got Claudia the Jeep in the first place,” he commented as Sam bundled Dean back to the car. Derek headed to the backseat, leaving Bobby in the passenger seat with John driving. 

“Stiles?”

“My son.”

“You named your kid Stiles Stilinski?”

John chuckled, “No, that’s just what he likes to be called.”

“His real name’s a mouthful isn’t it. Probably Polish too, knowing Claudia.”

“Yeah, it is,” John pulled back onto the road, checking that Dean and Sam were following them and then started driving. 

“I’m sorry for Dean,” Bobby said.

“Did they know her well?” Derek asked in response.

Bobby took the Alpha question as forgiveness and nodded, “Yeah. Claudia knew their mom, Mary Campbell.”

“From the hunting family the Campbell’s I guess?”  
“Uh yeah,” Bobby looked over at John in surprise.

“Stiles has done a decent amount of research on this whole hunting thing, amongst other stuff.”

“She gave it up when she married John Winchester, but when Dean was just a kid a demon murdered her. John packed Dean and Sam up and started learning about hunting.”

“Soldiers, not sons,” John murmured, remembering what Chris had told him the night before. 

“Something like that yeah. John’s dead now, but he and Claudia crossed paths after Mary’s death. She saved his life a few times, but they didn’t work together often.”

“Why not?” John pressed, feeling like there was something Bobby wasn’t saying. 

“She didn’t agree with his parenting methods for Sam and Dean. He was never the same after Mary’s death, drank too much, loved too little, and looked at his sons as potential fall out, soldiers not kids.”

“Why’re you telling us?” Derek queried. 

“Just to get you to understand them I guess. We’ve all been through hell, but she helped them through some of it, until she disappeared.”

“They thought she abandoned them?” John asked. 

“She used to watch over them whenever she could. She would bring them by my place if John hadn’t checked on them in a few days and she had to move on. We had a system, but then, she stopped picking up my calls, Dean’s too. She just vanished.” 

“She had magically induced amnesia,” Derek told Bobby, “It stole her memories of us, of hunting, her childhood, everything, and everyone.”

“I can tell this is going to be quite a story,” the hunter responded, shaking his head as he looked out the window. 

“So, Stiles,” Bobby used the name hesitatingly “Is he a werewolf?”

“God no,” Derek responded, “Don’t ask him about it either. He has made his feelings about the Bite very clear.”

“He’s got his mom’s gifts then?” Bobby asked.

“What gifts would those be?” John flipped the question back on the hunter. 

“Her Spark, for starters.”

“Yeah, he’s got that.”

“Impressive.”

“He’s impressive with or without the magic.”

Bobby smiled at John’s words, “I’m sure he is.”

“How many are in your pack?”

“I’d prefer you not interrogate my Alpha, even if you do it kindly,” John piped up, shutting down Bobby’s questions, “We might have Argents in the pack, but the Hale’s don’t exactly have the best rapport with hunters.”

Bobby’s eyes flicked from Derek, who looked surprised, to John whose jaw was set as he drove. 

“Not a problem.”

“We’ll be there soon.”

“So, the Jeep? I can’t believe it still runs. How much of it is duct tape?”

“Three-quarters,” Derek snarked.

“That sounds about right,” Bobby replied, “I can take a look at it if you want, while I’m here.”

“Ask Stiles, it’s his car.”

“She’d have loved that,” Bobby replied and the Jeep fell silent. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW


	20. He's a good kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris briefs Sam and Dean. 
> 
> Allison and Stiles have a cute friendship.
> 
> Sam and Dean tell Stiles Claudia's real name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

“What the hell was that, Dean?” Sam exploded at his brother the minute they got back into the car, and John pulled out onto the road. 

“You don’t think we deserved to know?”

“She was part of this pack, she was the Sheriff’s wife!”

“So, our grief doesn’t matter as much?” Sam stopped short. 

“Dean,”

“Leave it, Sam.”

“At least we know she didn’t abandon us.”

“I said leave it.”

“Fine.”

They drove in silence until they pulled up behind the Jeep, in front of “That’s the cottage?”

“It’s a damn mansion.”

Sam whistled low as he exited the car. 

“Nice car,” a voice came from the woods, and Sam and Dean turned. 

“Peter Hale, you must be the Winchesters.”

“Peter, I swear, if you antagonize people I will let them shoot you as long as it won’t kill you,” muttered another man who emerged from the woods.

“How sweet,” Peter cooed at Chris, who rolled his eyes, but threw an arm around his mate, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. Peter’s smirk fell into something softer as Chris let him go and walked forward, “Chris Argent.”

“I’m Sam, that’s Dean.” Sam shook Chris’ hand, and then stepped forward to shake Peter’s. 

Dean stayed back, but nodded at the new arrivals. 

“Causing havoc already?” a young woman called from the front door, as another teen ran out the door, almost tripping over her feet. Derek darted forward to steady the teen, while John jumped out of the Jeep to go check on the teen who was laughing. 

Bobby walked forward, slowly, looking over the house. 

“Do you have bags?” Peter asked the two hunters.

“We travel light.” Dean grunted, and pulled his rucksack from the trunk, hiding the extras in the trunk. He tossed Sam his bag too. 

“Understandable.” Peter set off for the house. 

“So, umm…”

“He’s Derek’s uncle.”

“Claudia told us Talia was the Alpha.”

“She was, then Laura, Derek’s sister, and then, Peter.” Chris stopped walking, letting the rest of the pack and Bobby head inside, waiting until the door closed, giving the wolves inside some privacy from what Chris was about to explain, “When Derek was sixteen my sister manipulated him, assaulted him, and then she set fire to his family’s house and burnt everyone inside alive. Werewolf packs include humans, and everyone in that house was innocent of any wrongdoing. You’re stepping on thin ice as hunters here, so be respectful or leave. I won’t tolerate my pack being threatened.”

“Our mom was burned alive by a demon.” Dean was shocked to hear himself volunteer that information, “So, we’ve all got our tragedies, but the reason we’re here is Claudia, right? We have that in common.”

“Yeah, that we do.”

“Understood.”

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

Bobby knew the moment that the teen boy rushed out of the front door that this was Claudia and John’s son. As the Alpha jumped to keep the kid from eating dirt, the hunter chuckled. 

“You good, Stiles?” the teen girl asked Stiles. 

“Thanks for the help, Argent,” Stiles dusted himself off, as Derek let him go, “Thanks Alpha.” He smiled at Derek who just rolled his eyes, and moved into the cottage. 

“I’m fine, Dad.” Stiles said, to his father who’d rushed over. Suddenly, Stiles found himself with an Allison shaped limpet on his back.

“Ally?” 

“Scott’s orders,” she murmured, laughing at him as he half-heartedly tried to throw her off.

“Whatever,” Stiles responded flippantly, but the blush on his cheeks showed his joy at the casual affection. 

“Stiles, this is Bobby Singer,” John said, smiling at his son’s friendship with Allison.

“It’s an honour, Mr. Singer. Your ability to keep half of the hunting community alive on a daily basis is astounding,” Stiles said as he reached out to shake Bobby’s hand, “And this, koala bear on my back is Allison Argent, our resident head of the Argent clan.” Allison waved and shook Bobby’s hand too. 

“You did some research on me, kid?”

“Don’t be surprised,” Allison cut in, “Stiles is good at being informed.”  
“Ally,” Stiles’ voice had a warning tone to it.

She just shrugged, then tapped him on the shoulder, “Let’s go inside.”

“You have legs?”

“But you’re comfortable,” she told him.

“Fine.” Stiles turned taking both of them inside with Bobby and John following behind.

Once Sam and Dean were inside, Chris behind them Stiles dropped Allison off, and offered to show the hunters to some rooms. Bobby agreed, Allison picking up his bag, and staying close to Stiles as the Winchesters followed him. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

Stiles was nervous about the Winchesters being here. He knew their reputation. He couldn’t believe Derek and Peter had been willing to let them come into the territory let alone the cottage. He also knew that his mom had been a big part of their lives. He’d spent some time before Ally had shown up in his room last night reading her journals, hunting for mentions of the Winchesters. They’d been close. She’d kind of helped raise them, and while he hadn’t been jealous of Derek having his mom as his godmother, Stiles wasn’t sure how he felt about Sam and Dean. 

So, he rambled to the brothers, keeping them distracted as he tried to sort through his own feelings, while also keeping pertinent information away from his rambling. He was happy Allison was there to have his back. 

He put the brothers in a room next to his, a few doors away from Peter, but close enough to Chris and Allison that the hunters would hear them. Before he opened the door, he turned to the Winchester, “Umm, so I don’t know how much my mom told you guys about what she could do, but each of these rooms responds magically to the needs of the people staying in it. So, don’t freak out.”

“We’ll be fine, kid.” Dean told Stiles as he opened the door, then stepped back suddenly as the room shifted.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Allison parroted, smiling sweetly.

“Ally,” Stiles glared at her. 

She met his gaze, then ducked her head. “I’m going to grab some stuff from my room” and she headed back to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. 

“Sorry, about that,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

Dean took a moment to look at Stiles, seeing bits of Sammy when he’d been a kid. Too young for the horrors of the world, but thrown into it anyways.

“Don’t worry about, your pack’s just protective. I get that.” he jerked his head at the room, “Is it safe now?”

“Probably,” Stiles replied, still not meeting Dean’s eyes. 

“So, you’re the researcher, right?” Sam asked, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, but removing it quickly when the teen flinched unconsciously. Instead he just guided Stiles into the room, where he set down his bag. 

“That’s Sammy’s role too,” Dean laughed when Sam threw his jacket at his brother. 

“My name is Sam, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean snarked back.

Stiles bit his lip to keep from laughing at the duo, unsure of how they would react to that. 

“But, it’s true. I do more research than, Dean.”

“Mom put in an amazing library here,” Stiles replied.

“I’d love to see it, if that’d be okay.”

“Sure, I mean you’re here to help, right?”

Dean paused in his unpacking to look up at Stiles. 

“You have Claudia’s eyes,” Dean said, Stiles looked away, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just weird, hearing people talk about her, up until last weekend I’d be lucky to hear Dad talk about her once every few years. It was just too much.”

“Our dad was the same,” Dean replied, “As for your question, yeah, we’re here to help. We won’t harm your pack.”

“Good, because you wouldn’t get far if you did,” Stiles voice went crisp and cold. Dean didn’t doubt his words. Sam just nodded. 

“Is your name really Stiles?” Sam asked, while Dean threw his brother’s jacket back at him.

“Smooth transition, Sammy.”

“It’s what I like to be called, my real name’s a bit complex.”  
“Like mother like son eh?”

“Claudia isn’t that complex,” Stiles replied.

“Claudia was her middle name,” Sam told the boy, “Her first name was Jadwiga.” The name sounded foreign on Sam’s lips.

“It means refuge in war,” Stiles said, “That’s why Talia called her Jinx, maybe.” He sighed, “Thanks.”

“Sorry, we didn’t…”

“Don’t apologize. I’m learning a lot about her,” he clapped his hands then, “Feel free to come down once you’re settled. Allison will have dropped Bobby’s stuff next door.” Stiles slipped from the room. 

“He’s a good kid,” Sam commented once the door closed behind Stiles.

“He shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this, she wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Yeah, but he’s in it now.”

“True…”

“What are you thinking about, Dean?”

“Maybe we should offer to train him.” Sam’s eyebrows rose.

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea, but I’m surprised you’d be willing to consider it.”

“We owe her our lives, several times over Sam.”

“I know Dean, but it can’t just be about that for you.”

“It’s not.” But Dean stopped talking then, and Sam decided not to push.


	21. Pack Meet the Winchesters and Bobby Singer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack comes to the cottage. None of them are particularly impressed by Sam and Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

Allison shut herself in her room to call Scott. She was worried about Stiles, dealing with all of this new stuff, and while she was happy to be a friend, Scott was Stiles’ brother in everything but blood.   
“Allison? How’s your weekend going?”

“There are more hunters here,” she blurted out.

“Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Scott, they’re not threats exactly, but I think they’re weirding Stiles out a bit. I think he could use a friend.”

“Oh my god, Allison, you can’t just drop information like new hunters. Start with the not threatening part first next time, eh?” 

“Sorry. We’re at the cottage, do you think you and your mom could come by?”

“Hold on, I’ll ask.”

Within thirty seconds Scott confirmed that he and his mom would be on their way to the cottage, and then when they were both breathing easier, Allison gave him an update on the Winchesters and Bobby. 

As she hung up with Scott, feeling better, Allison noticed that Lydia had texted her to say she was coming by. She texted back that she wasn’t at the house. 

Lydia’s number appeared on her call screen, “I’m going to the cottage, not the house, Allison. I’m picking up Erica too. We were hoping to go shopping today, but I suppose meeting some legendary hunters is fine too.”

“How did you know?”

“We do have a pack text, Allison.”

Allison internally face palmed, “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Are doing okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Okay, bye.”

Allison took a few deep breaths, she could handle these interlopers, especially with her pack at her side. She got up to leave her room, pausing as she noticed Sam and Dean in the hallway, she waited to see if they were going to investigate the other rooms. Sam took a step down the hall toward Stiles’ room, but Dean caught his arm “We told him we were here to help, and that’s the truth Sammy. This isn’t a job unless they make it one.”  
“I’m proud of you, Dean.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I get it. If there was one person I always wanted to make proud aside from you and Bobby it was Claudia.”

“Well, if we get a chance to train Stiles, maybe we can make her proud one more time,” Dean muttered.

Then the two brothers headed downstairs. 

They walked out into the living room, to find more people than had been there before. 

“Hello,” Sam said, greeting the two new teens who were looking at them in curiosity.

“Isaac, and Boyd, meet Dean and Sam Winchester,” Stiles introduced the betas to the brothers.

“Sup?” Isaac asked, sarcasm in his tone. 

Boyd nudged his fellow beta, but he just jerked his chin at the newcomers. 

“Believe it or not, that’s saying a lot for him,” Stiles joked.

Boyd rolled his eyes. 

“Erica and Lydia are driving up the road now,” Allison called out as she came down. 

Boyd stood up at this, ducking out to the entryway to go meet Erica. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Lydia and Erica appeared. Erica already draped over Boyd, in a side cuddle. Lydia headed straight for Allison, hugging her friend then turning to look at the interlopers. 

“Lydia, Erica, meet Sam and Dean Winchester,” Stiles conducted introductions once again. 

Lydia actually shook their hands, while Erica waved. 

Sam’s eyes narrowed a bit when he touched Lydia’s hand, and she drew it back quickly, Allison stepping forward to place herself in between her friend and Sam. 

“Where’s Bobby?” Dean asked, before awkward silence could descend again. 

“Alpha!” crowed Erica, detaching herself from Boyd to leap at Derek who caught her, an unamused look on his face, but he scented her briefly then deposited her back on the ground. 

“Erica, we’ve talked about jumping wolves,” Stiles teased her.

“But it’s so fun, Batman!” She got a wicked look in her eye, but Boyd clapped a hand over her mouth so her words were so quiet only the wolves present could hear her murmur “Maybe you should try it.”  
“Is pack all teenagers?” Sam asked.

“Mostly,” it was Lydia that replied, “What of it?”

“Okay, everyone take a breath,” Stiles jumped in, “Bobby’s in Dad’s office, down the hall.” He pointed. Sam and Dean left, with a quick nod of thanks. 

“Are you okay, Lydia?” he asked.

“They feel wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, coming to stand near Lydia. He flared his nostrils slightly, cocking his head. 

“I don’t know, it’s like before I find the bodies…” she shivered, and Allison put an arm around her friend. 

“I can sense it. Death surrounds them, but that could be because they’re hunters,” Derek replied, hesitating before putting a hand on Lydia’s shoulder, “If they make you uncomfortable you don’t have to be here.”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere. They know things and I’m not leaving Stiles to figure everything out,” she told him, and after another moment he removed his hand. 

“Well, if you believe the stories about them, they’ve both died, several times over,” Stiles contributed “so it makes sense that they’d feel unnatural. Actually…” 

“Stiles?” Lydia asked, tapping a toe on the floor.

“Come with me,” he told her, and then set off for the library, then he turned again, “Please?”

She nodded, Allison following, Erica huffed but pushed off of the couch to go too, dragging Boyd and Isaac, “Come on, Alpha. You don’t want to miss watching Stiles do his thing, do you?” 

Derek looked at the ceiling wondering why he’d ever though turning teenagers was a good idea. 

By the time Scott and Melissa arrived Bobby, Chris, Peter, and John had sorted through the paperwork affiliated with Claudia’s accounts and vaults. Sam and Dean sat off to the side, watching the proceedings with interest. Just as John filed away the last piece of information Bobby had to offer, Melissa knocked on the door. 

“Mel, meet Bobby Singer and Sam and Dean Winchester,” John introduced the three strangers to Melissa. 

“Melissa McCall,” she said, shaking hands all around, “Scott’s headed to the library, something about Lydia and dead bodies.”

John raised his eyebrows at her, “There aren’t new ones that I know of, but he only heard snippets.”

“He’s still learning,” Peter commented, “He’ll get there. Besides, Derek’s there. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”

“Still, we should check in,” Melissa said, staying by the door, fixing the Winchesters and Bobby with some measure of distrust. 

“Right behind you, Mel,” John said, moving out from behind his desk.

“More hunters, John, really?”

“They knew Claudia.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.”

They turned into the library together, to hear Stiles’ voice arguing with Derek. 

John smiled.

Melissa looked at him.

“It’s just good to hear his voice.”

She smiled at that. 

“I’m almost 100% sure, Derek.”

“And I get that, but that doesn’t mean Lydia should be trying to channel something she might not have access to.”

“Well, why don’t we ask Lydia about that huh? It is her life and they are her potential powers!”

“I agree with Stiles,” Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder. 

“Really?” Stiles looked shocked as John and Melissa rounded the corner.

“Yes, really,” she replied, inspecting her nails with feigned disinterest at the goings on around her, “I always find the dead bodies. Banshee seems plausible to me.”

“I think so too, but jumping into power like this can be dangerous,” Derek told her, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Not if she trains them,” Sam interjected.

“You’ve dealt with banshees?” Stiles asked, to the point as usual. 

“Read about them.”

“Well, then you’re no help. I’ve got a researcher on my side already. And I trust him.” Lydia told the younger Winchester. 

“Claud, did,” Bobby came into the conversation then, walking over to the group of teenagers, glancing at the books Stiles had out. He looked up at John, “You said something about a memory stone earlier?”

Stiles tensed. Scott came over to his friend, slinging an arm over his shoulders. 

“Why would that help?”

“If you ask it to show you something particular it can.”

“So, we just ask a magical object to cooperate?” Peter asked, sarcastically. 

“Well, no.” Bobby looked at Stiles.

“No,” Derek and Peter said at the same time. 

Stiles didn’t acknowledge either of them. 

“It would help Lydia?” 

“Stiles,” Lydia hissed. He ignored her, waiting for Bobby to answer him.

“It could.”

“Could?” John’s voice was like ice.   
“That’s better than nothing,” Stiles said, “I’m nowhere near as trained as she was though.”

“It’s her stone, it shouldn’t harm you, because you’re hers.”

“Shouldn’t, that sounds reliable,” Lydia hissed, “No.” She turned to Stiles, “Not unless it’s our last option.”

“Not really your choice to make, Lyds.”

“She’s right,” Dean said.

“Wow, some damn sense has finally been knocked into your head after all these years,” Bobby turned to look at Dean. 

While everyone turned to look at Bobby and Dean, Scott could feel Stiles trying to slip away. “Stiles, stay.”

“I’m not a dog,” Stiles muttered. 

“Serves you right for all of those dog jokes, buddy.”

Stiles huffed. 

Derek was looking at them, fixing Stiles with an inscrutable stare. 

“Fine, Sourwolf, I’ll stay put.” Derek nodded, and Scott stood by him. 

Of course, just because he was staying put then that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to sneak out to his mom’s workroom that night.


	22. See Her Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

John looked between Stiles and Bobby frustrated with the hunter, not that Singer knew his suggestion would make Stiles throw himself into danger. “Unless he did,” John thought, wondering if he’d been too quick to trust these people in an effort to try and make his and Stiles’ world whole again. But he didn’t say anything, instead he made plans to wait for Stiles that night in the basement. 

John leaned against the wall, unable to stop his eyes from flicking over to the door of Claudia’s workroom every few seconds. He felt a little ridiculous in the moment, enacting a stakeout of sorts in his wife’s house, but he knew that Stiles would never resist a chance to help his friends.

Sure enough, quiet footsteps reached his ears a little past midnight. 

“Seriously, bro?”

Scott’s voice made the footsteps pause.

“Did you really expect me to do anything else, Scotty?”

“It’s dangerous, Stiles.”

“Our lives are dangerous.” Stiles’ tone was flat and stubborn.

“Please, Stiles... why don’t you look at her journals or something else first?”

“I have, there’s some stuff that might help...”

“But?”

Stiles sighed and John could hear him sit down in the stairs, Scott probably coming to sit beside him.

“You can tell me, Stiles.”

“I just want to see her again,” Stiles’ voice cracked as he spoke, “I went so long without any hint of her and I just want everything now.”

“Stiles...”

“I’m learning new things about her every day and I just want to soak it all in now, because I’m afraid it’s all going to be taken away.”

“No one’s going to take her memory away from you, Stiles.”

“It happened before.”

“But now you’ve got me, the pack, and your dad. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Stiles laughed shakily “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Scotty.”

“I’m not,” the teen wolf protested.

Stiles stayed quiet.

“I’m not going anywhere, Stiles. And neither is anyone else.” Another best of silence. “What else is bothering you?”

“How long do you have?” Stiles joked, shakily.

“Is it your dad?”

“He’s dealing with so much right now, Scott. What happens when it’s too much for him?”

“You mean when you’re too much for him?” Scott growled, angrily.

“Don’t be defensive about this Scott, it’s true, okay. I’m the epi-center of this supernatural shit-storm that invaded his life. I got you bitten...”

“Stop, right there. No. Stiles. Stop.”

John could picture his son’s protesting faces until he’d sullenly stop.

“You are not the reason I’m a werewolf, Peter is. And, it could have been you just as easily. I don’t blame you,” Scott told him.

“You should.”

“Well, neither of us are particularly good at following the rules.”

“Does that mean you’re going to let me continue on my quest for tonight?” 

“Only if you let me and your dad come with.”

“No, Scott... wait, my dad?”

“I think he was checking out the training room. His scent is fresh, and present down here.” 

“Scott, just leave it.”

“No. The three of us or nothing. Don’t be a damn martyr, Stiles.”

Silence.

“You know every time you’re quiet it freaks me the hell out,” Scott muttered.

Stiles chuckled.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Scott.”

“Right, don’t push it. Stay here; I’ll get your dad.”

John heard rustling, “Stay, Stiles.”

“Still not a dog.”

“Still paying you back for all of the dog jokes, bro.”

The teen wolf turned around the corner, nodding at John and then walked past the Sheriff. He opened the door to the training room, calling out for him. John who’d ducked in behind Scott stepped back a few paces and replied. 

As they walked to the door together, John murmured to Scott “Thank you.” 

“I’ll do anything for Stiles’ benefit, Sheriff, even fudge the truth a bit.”

“That’s a good limit on your moral compass, McCall.”

“Stiles is always an exception.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“What were you checking out, Dad?” Stiles was fidgeting at the foot of the stairs.

“Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that taking your mom to the gun range and teaching her to shoot as a date must have been a real laugh for her.” 

“If she knew how to use half the stuff in there I think she was basically Lara Croft,” Scott commented.

“Dare I ask what you two are doing here? Or should I just guess?”

Stiles fidgeted. Scott walked to stand next to him and telegraphed his movements as he placed a steadying hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“The memory stone, right?”

Stiles looked up surprised and a bit nervous.

“You want to see her. I do too.”

“Scott wouldn’t let me go without you and him.” 

“Well, Scott’s a good egg. So are you, kid.”

John walked over to Claudia’s workshop while Scott hovered at Stiles’ side and as John went to open the door the shade reappeared. 

“You bring another with you. A member of the pack. He must pass a test too.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Scott said, standing between Stiles and the shade of Claudia.

She laughed. “And so you would, welcome young wolf.”

“That’s it?”

Stiles and John shared a look.

“I guess.”

They walked into the workshop to see the memory stone glowing lightly still set upon a table. 

Scott sneezed.

“It smells like electricity and dusty books.”

“That must be the scent of magic” Stiles told his friend.

“So, how do we do this, and keep you safe?” John asked his son.

“Umm,” Stiles looked around, eyes catching on the shade of his mother “Hey, can you interact with our world from your shade state?”

“Within reason.”

“So, if we were to get stuck in these memories you could pull us back?”

“Yes.”

“Will you?”

“Why are you taking this risk, young spark?”

“Because I need to know. Everything.”

“This stone belonged to my mother, did you know that? It became what it is now as my powers developed,” the shade paused, “I also took a risk like this when I first found it in my mother’s room.” 

“So...?”

“I’ll pull you back. This time. Next time you learn to do it yourself.”

“Deal.”

“Man, this is weird,” Scott murmured.

“You’re telling me,” John replied, “He’ll be safe?”

“Always.”

“Good.”

“So, Bobby said I need to ask it for something specific,” muttered Stiles, completely focused on his new task. He cleared this throat. “I seek information about banshees?” His tone came out a question but the stone still glowed so he put out a hand, his dad and Scott crowding close as the room swirled into memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started writing some random side stories about Claudia when she was younger and with the pack. Check out Claudia and the Pack. :)


	23. Devon, the banshee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

They found themselves in a graveyard with no one in sight, until Scott lifted his head to scent the air. Apparently, he could still do that in these memories.

Footsteps approached the trio quickly as someone crashed through the undergrowth. “Devon!”

Claudia’s voice rang out after the man who ran past the trio, stopping only when tendrils of light wrapped around his shoulders, holding him in place. A young Claudia, maybe just sixteen emerged from the trees, wearing a leather jacket and concerned look on her face as she ran over to the young man who seemed to be fighting speech. 

Scott gripped Stiles’ hand in fear for the young man, already anticipating the worst possible outcome. 

“Devon, you have to scream,” Claudia came over to stand in front of the man she was gently holding captive, “Devon, if you don’t scream you’ll go mad.”

The man shook his head wildly, fighting her bonds. “Devon, please!” Claudia pleaded with him, but then her pleading look transformed into one of panic as she heard another set of steps approaching. “Remember what I told you, your scream is a weapon too if you hone it. Use it, now!”

“I don’t think so,” a newcomer stepped into the graveyard, pointing a gun at the man named Devon.

John had to remind himself that this had already happened and that he couldn’t save the banshee. He couldn’t, but he wanted to.

“You know, for a hunter you spend a lot of time protecting freaks and monsters,” the newcomer taunted her.

Claudia was not phased. She silently drew her own gun, cocking it and moving to stand protectively in front of Devon.

“Aww, you going to shoot me, Crowe?”

“This isn’t your hunt, Gardener.”

“Sure it is. You know you hunt like your old man,” the Gardener grinned as Claudia tensed, and went to turn as a shot rang out, Devon dropping dead to ground behind her, “he never has people to watch his back either.”

Stiles gaped openly at the dead body now lying at their feet. If his mom had let the man go maybe, maybe he’d have survived... or maybe not. 

Gardener holstered his gun as his partner emerged from Claudia’s other side. Claudia, for her part, was in shock, staring down at Devon. “Not much of a saviour now, are you? Don’t get in our way next time, Crowe.”

The other hunter nudged Devon’s body with a dirty boot “Shame, banshees can collect a pretty penny on the market.” 

“What did you say?” Claudia whirled around, knife suddenly in her hand as she stepped over Devon’s body forcing the hunters back, “You just murdered a human being!”

“Death is death, kid. Nothing about that freak is shaking any world.”

“Stop messing with things you don’t understand. It’s kill or be killed out here.” Gardener spat at the grass near her feet. 

The two hunters walked off into the night as Claudia dropped to her knees, brushing hair out of Devon’s cool face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The memory titled, shifting hazily until the trio found themselves back in the workshop. “Oh my god,” Scott was gripping Stiles’ shirt with an ironclad grip as if he could lose track of him if they weren’t connected somehow. 

“Who were they?” John spoke to the shade in the room.

“Hunters who lived by their own code, kill or be killed. They aren’t unusual.”

“You were the exception?” Stiles asked, hesitantly.

“I had to be in some ways. I was technically one of the monsters usually hunted by my kind.”

“Devon, you met him when you were what, sixteen?”

“Still under my father’s tyranny for the most part, but yes, the journal for that year will help you train your banshee.”

“How...?”

“I might only be a shade, but I am still connected to the magic of this place. I can feel her presence.” She paused, “It wasn’t all bad, but a hunter’s life is rarely smooth and easy.”

“What kind of happy memories could exist in that life, though?” Scott asked, tightening his grip on Stiles’ shirt.

“I don’t know, Scotty.” He turned back to the stone, hand fluttering over it, “Show us something good, please.”

The room misted and shifted again.


	24. A good memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

A house and scrap yard came into view. A slightly older Claudia came into view, covered in dust, as she limped up to the house.

“Stop right there.” The sound of a gun cocking made the trio look up, to see a younger version of “Bobby?” whispered Stiles.

“Who are you?” 

Claudia took a step back, hands moving from her side where it was now obvious she was bleeding. She put her hands up.

“Are you Bobby Singer?”

“Who’s asking?”

“A friend. I heard about you from Ellen.”

“Most of my friends don’t wander into my scrap yard bleeding.”

“That’s bull,” Claudia pulled in a sharp breath, but she didn’t dare move her hands from the air.

“What’s your name?”

“Stilinski.”

Bobby’s eyes twitched. 

“I’m not possessed anymore. Go ahead, throw holy water and whatever the hell else on me, but just let me come in before I bleed out.” 

“Stab wound?”

Claudia nodded, still starring down Bobby’s gun. 

“Ellen you say?”

“Heard about you at the Roadhouse.” 

“Stay here. Don’t move if you know what’s good for you. Put some pressure back on that,” Claudia lowered her hands pressing against her side, waiting until Bobby returned and unceremoniously tossed water in her face. 

“Satisfied?”

“For now. Come in.”

Claudia limped into the living room, Bobby bringing out a first aid kit as she settled in. He offered her a bottle of whiskey. She smiled tightly, shook her head, and started threading a needle. 

“She... no... she can’t” Scott couldn’t wrap his mind around what was going on. Stiles and John watched quietly as Claudia disinfected her wound then made quick work of stitching herself up.

Bobby watched her from a few steps away. “I’ve heard the Crowe’s were cold and clinical, but that’s something else.”

“I’m not a Crowe, Singer.” Claudia sighed as she tied off her stitches and leaned back.

“What was it?”

“Some sort of spirit with a pointy stick.”

“And?”

“It’s dead.”

“Where were you headed?”

“To you actually.”

“What for?”

“I’m in search of some wheels.”

“You can stay the night. I’ll see what I can do for you tomorrow.”

“You got doors with locks on them?”

Bobby nodded, pointing off the hall.

“Thanks.”

The memory shifted, taking them on a time jump as Claudia emerged from her room, cleaner and less bloody. She walked outside with only a small limp, making her way into the scrap yard. 

“Looks like you were right, kiddo,” John commented as the trio saw the Jeep at the same time as Claudia.

“Something catch your eye?” Bobby came out from behind her, and in a moment she turned, gun cocked and ready to fire. She stood for a moment then flicked the safety back on and holstered it.

“The Jeep,” she pointed to it.

“It’s a pile of scrap metal.”

“So was the Millennium Falcon.”

Bobby chuckled.

“It’ll take awhile to get up to snuff.”

“I can take care of it.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her. “Tell you what, you and I build it together and you give me stories in exchange.”

“Stories?”

“Knowledge. Whatever you want to call your personal hunter lore.”

“You want to know about the possession,” Claudia closed her eyes, the topic still obviously painful.

“Maybe just start with the spirit from yesterday eh? I won’t push.”

“You trust people just as much as I do, Singer. Why would you make me this offer?”

“Eventually, you need to trust someone right?”

Claudia walked closer to the Jeep, running her hand over the frame. 

“My old man was a bastard too.”

“Seems to be a hunter trend,” Claudia responded absentmindedly, “If I threatened you, would you put me down?”

“No question,” Bobby replied.

“You got a deal, Singer.”

“Bobby.”

“Claudia.”

They shook hands.

The memory going hazy.

“That was a good memory?” Stiles wondered aloud. 

“It was the start of a beautiful friendship,” the shade told him, drawing her tendrils of shadow back from where they’d wrapped around the three of them. 

“Thank you for bringing us back,” John murmured to her. She nodded then melted into thin air.

“That still freaks me out,” Scott commented. 

“You’re not the only one,” Stiles told his friend. John chuckled, “I think it’s time to sleep, boys. You’ve still got school later today.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Stiles told his dad as they left the workshop to head upstairs. But he wasn’t complaining, not really, because he’d seen his mother again.


	25. Feels like family again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

John couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned until he gave up on sleeping altogether and snuck back down to the basement. Claudia’s workroom door opened without protest, but as he stood over the stone nothing happened. The shade appeared at his side.

“It’s because I don’t have magic, right?”

“Somewhat. It can also predict when it might become addictive to someone. It doesn’t let you see more, because you aren’t ready for it yet.”

“Really?” John huffed out the word in frustration, fingers running through his hair. “And you wouldn’t offer that same temptation?”

The shade shook her head. “My tenure here in this form will not last much longer. The cottage is safe with the young spark and with you as his guardian I wouldn’t be of much use.”

John panicked, looking at the wavering image of his late wife. “When will you disappear?”

“Do not fear; I will not leave without saying goodbye, Guardian of Beacon Hills.”

The shade made to touch his face, wisps clouding his vision and freeing him from his cares for the night. Slowly, carefully, the shade imagined him up in his room and suddenly there he appeared. 

In the morning, John would wonder whether the interaction had been a particularly vivid dream, but he knew in his heart it hadn’t been one. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW

The entire pack had stayed over the night before. They were all anxious about the new hunters in town, which meant that the next morning was a whirlwind, but not as chaotic as Melissa thought it would be. Everyone’s clothes appeared in their rooms, homework was basically complete with the exception of Isaac who was being coached through some math by Stiles and Lydia as the former stacked up lunches. 

Chris and John worked side by side making eggs and toast, while Peter was already on the phone coordinating virtual viewings for Claudia’s properties. Erica was trying to distract Isaac until Boyd stole her coffee, then she stopped. 

Derek was drinking his coffee and observing the chaos, while he read the paper, keeping an eye on Stiles. Scott and Allison were feeding each other breakfast, which made Melissa roll her eyes as she grabbed her lunch from Stiles before heading out for her morning shift. 

Eventually, Derek herded all of the teens into cars – Stiles drove Erica, Boyd and Isaac while Allison drove Scott, and Lydia – so that they could all get to school on time. John could hardly believe it, but as Derek turned to walk back into the cottage the Sheriff would swear he saw the Alpha smile. 

“It feels like family, doesn’t it?” Peter murmured to his nephew, who nodded, eyes briefly flashing red with contentment before they went back inside together.


	26. Stop it, you're boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Human adjusts to pack life. Lydia and Stiles chat. There are Scott & Stiles hugs too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

School was school. Isaac turned in his completed math homework, finished before he set foot in the building, which was a miracle in of itself and the pack stuck together as much as possible. Stiles was antsy though, with the Winchesters in town and all of the changes that had been going on he felt he was due some time to feel freaked out. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one in the pack distracted, Allison and Lydia both were kind off, meaning that Team Human wasn’t exactly down for the count, but they were metaphorically out to lunch for most of the day. 

“Okay, what’s up with Team Human?”

Erica dropped her tray on the pack lunch table, fixing Allison and Lydia with a questioning look.  
“I’m sorry that you’re used to your life being in upheaval, Erica, but we’re not,” Lydia replied, picking at her salad.

“But Allison’s been moving around for years,” Isaac pointed out, sitting next to Erica, Boyd taking a seat on the other side.

“It’s called pack adjustment,” Stiles interjected as he sat down, “It’s a human thing, and completely normal.”

“Who told you that?” Scott asked, wedging himself between Stiles and Allison.

“Mom’s journals,” Stiles muttered, looking at Erica, “We have to settle into the pack dynamics and the pack bonds. Plus, the new hunters in town don’t help.”

“Even if they are “friendly” apparently.” Allison did sarcastic air quotes with her fingers.

“You don’t trust them?” Lydia asked her best friend, feigning shock.

“Well, they haven’t lied to us yet,” Scott pointed out, “And they haven’t done anything to us yet or even hinted at planning anything.”

Allison gripped her plastic fork harder, bending it. 

“Ally?” Scott turned to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Got something to share with the class, Argent?” Erica asked.

“They want Stiles to come train with them.”

“What?” “When?!” “No!” The pack went into a loud uproar, drawing attention to themselves.

“Guys, chill out!” Stiles quieted all of them. 

“You’re not going with them.” Lydia stated flatly.

“I’m sorry, did I ask for your opinion?” Stiles snapped at her, speaking more harshly than he ever had to Lydia in his entire life. 

The rest of the cafeteria was still shooting glances at them, so Stiles stood up leaving the room, lunch barely touched. 

“Grab his food, Scott,” Allison said, tugging on her boyfriend’s arm, “Come on Lydia.” The redhead nodded, quiet and subdued, “You know he didn’t mean it.”

Lydia smiled tightly at her friend. 

“The rest of you, stay here. We don’t need to overwhelm him,” Allison spoke directly to Boyd, knowing the second would keep the rest of the pack in line. He nodded.

The trio made their way down the hall, Scott leading them over to the doors outside and towards the lacrosse field. Before they could walk out onto the field though Scott put out a hand to stop Allison and Lydia. 

Stiles was pacing beneath the bleachers, running his hands over his hair. His fingers made motions as if they would be pulling if there was any hair to grab. 

Lydia ducked under Scott’s arm to march over to Stiles, leading Allison and Scott to draw back a bit. “Can you hear them?” Allison whispered. Scott nodded.

“Stiles.”

“I’m sorry, Lydia. I shouldn’t have snapped at you of all people. I just…”

“It’s not my decision to make,” Lydia said, stopping Stiles in his tracks, “It’s not.” She looked at him appraisingly, “You want them to, to train you.”

Stiles nodded. “I need to be useful to the pack, Lydia.”

“You are.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. 

“I’m sorry, did I ask for your opinion?” she smirked at him, and he smiled back hesitantly, “Also, I wasn’t asking a question; I was stating a fact, Stilinski.”

“Far be it from me to argue with Lydia Martin.”

“Good.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, “No more storm offs?”

“Did I steal your signature move?”

“Maybe.” She smirked again. “Library?” She offered him her arm. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinizing her. 

“You didn’t come alone, did you?”

Lydia’s eyebrows rose. 

“I’m not the only who pretends to be less intelligent am I?”

“I don’t pretend; I just distract,” Stiles responded, then he called out, “Scott? Ally?”  
“How’d you know it’d be us?” Ally asked as they emerged. 

“Because, the betas, Scotty included can’t stay hidden for their lives so he’d have to be with you.” Stiles shrugged at Scott, “Sorry, bro.”

“Fair though.”

“So, are we good with ignoring my constant meltdowns or… oomph” Scott launched himself from Allison’s side onto Stiles, hugging him.

“They’re so cute,” Lydia cooed, smirking at Stiles, “You deserve it, Stilinski. Stop being dumb.”

“Thanks, Lyds,” he gasped out, “Scotty, human, remember?” Scott let go, but kept an arm on his shoulders. 

“You’re not really leaving though, right?” Scott asked.

“Scott!” Allison hissed.

Stiles worked himself out from Scott’s grip, “I might, just for a little while. If they offer, they haven’t yet.”

“But…”

“McCall.” Lydia said, tone flat.

“You know why though, Scotty. I want to help.”

Scott looked like a kicked puppy, but then he pulled back his hurt face as if he was processing things, “It’s not about us, or the pack… it’s about you needing to feel secure, so, I suppose I could last without you for a bit.” He sighed. “If I have to, but you owe me bro time when you get back.”

“Ugh, stop it, you’re boys,” Lydia commented as Scott tugged Stiles into another hug. 

“Cool it, Topanga,” Scott said to the redhead as he tugged his friend back around to the school. 

“How is it that Scott McCall can surprise me?” Lydia murmured as Allison laughed and looped her arm through Lydia’s following behind the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot the Boy Meets World reference?


	27. Alpha, I don't mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek reads in Stiles' room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

“How long will you stay?”

The question was a valid one, but it made Dean get his hackles up. Sam answered Chris for both of them “As long as Bobby’s here.”

“And I won’t overstay my welcome. I just need to get some stuff in order for the Sheriff then we’ll be off.”

“And then?” Peter appeared from the depths of the library where the four men had been talking.

“Then what?” snapped Dean.

“Well, my daughter seems to be under the impression that you’d like to take Stiles with you.” Chris told the hunters, a low note of danger in his otherwise calm voice.

Bobby shot Sam and Dean a covert glance that was still caught by Peter. 

“Whatever we do will be with the full consent and knowledge of all parties involved” Bobby rattled off gruffly. He eyed Chris and Peter squarely “He needs training.”

“And we can’t do that?” Now Peter’s voice had dipped dangerously low.

“Not the way he needs it, no.” Bobby looked tired when he said it. 

“What makes you so sure of that?” Chris asked, tone slightly lighter than before, curiosity outweighing concern briefly.

It was Dean who answered though. “That kid’s juggling too much too soon and he’ll get himself killed before long,” he slammed his book shut, “even now he’s got adults involved. He won’t think twice about protecting you all. Don’t you get it?!”

His voice rang out in the library. Peter’s brow furrowed, the truth in Dean’s words making him uncomfortable. 

“Have you told John yet?” Chris asked, quietly.

“I wanted to talk to the kid first,” Bobby told them, “But Dean’s right. The kid’s reckless, just like she was, but Clau had the skill to back it up.”

“When would you train him?” 

“I was hoping summer,” Bobby told them, and both hunter and werewolf exhaled in relief “But that depends on what happens here between now and then.”

“Keep this between us, okay?” Sam requested “We’ll talk to the Sheriff when the time is right.”

“I’m not going to lie to him about this,” Chris told them adamantly.

“We’ll do it before we leave, in a day or so, okay?” 

“Just hold out until then.”

Chris nodded, as did Peter.

Even Derek, hidden in the shadows of the stacks, nodded.

The thought of losing Stiles, even for a summer, made him feel sick, but the idea of losing the boy permanently made him feel like he’d been hollowed out so he supposed the lesser of two evils was the necessary choice.

He slipped out of the library as Chris and Peter sat down with the hunters, the latter further from the other humans than the former.

Derek was restless, even knowing his pack were all safe he felt an intense need to check on them. Especially, Stiles.

He wondered idly if John had noticed yet, and whether an uncomfortable talk was in his near future. He’d resolved to keep his romantic distance obviously. Stiles was still a child, no matter that the trauma he’d been through made him think faster and wiser. He was still just sixteen and Derek would respect that.

Derek would let him have the experiences he needed to have as a teenager and young man. It was the least he could do for Stiles since no one had done that for him. Still, his resolution didn’t stop him from climbing the stairs and standing outside of Stiles’s room. 

The door opened just a crack as he approached it and, taking that as an invitation he stepped inside, breathing in Stiles’s scent and allowing himself to calm down. Settling in the window seat, book open on his lap, Derek indulged in an hour of quiet reading pulled by the scent of the boy who just wouldn’t leave his mind.

One hour turned into three, and eventually he felt rather than heard Stiles approach his room. Anxious about being discovered Derek considered climbing down the cottage only to spot the Sheriff rolling up the drive with his cruiser. Yeah, scaling down the side not an option. Allison was downstairs so she’d be no help.

Better face the music, he figured as the door turned and hurricane Stiles entered. Well, until he froze, “Derek?” His frenzy of perpetual motion halted and he looked almost comical.

Derek smiled internally.

“Stiles.” He greeted the teen, glowing inside, but calm on the outside.

“Umm, what’re you doing?”

“Reading,” he held up the book.

“Well, there’s this huge room downstairs where people read books called a library...”

“The hunters are there.”

Stiles finally dropped his backpack and got his limbs to work again as he strode over to sit, not across from Derek, but next to him.

“Did they do something?” the hint of steel in Stiles’s voice surprised Derek, but his wolf was happy.

“Not exactly, no.”

“Der, what does that mean? Don’t play cryptic wolf with me, I’ve already argued with and apologized to Lydia Martin today. I don’t need more drama.”

“What happened with Lydia?” 

“Nope, you tell me first.”

Derek, raised an eyebrow at his packmate. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the alpha. I’m aware; what happened?”

“They want you to train with them.”

Stiles groaned “Seriously?”

Derek paused a little confused by the frustration rolling off of Stiles. 

“And let me guess, you, like everyone else want to throw your damn two cents in?” 

“You already knew?” 

Stiles titled his head back to rest it against the window, and Derek had to look away from the pale column of his throat. 

“I hoped. Allison confirmed it today.”

“You hoped?”

Derek’s voice wasn’t hurt like Scott’s had been, it was more resigned. Stiles opened his eyes, “It would be for me as much as the pack, Der. I wouldn’t be leaving forever, just for a few months.”

Derek didn’t like the feeling of emptiness that overtook him when Stiles said the word months, but he shook it off.

“Whatever you need to do,” Derek replied, his voice a little cooler than before. Stiles bit his lip and sat up, bringing himself closer to Derek in the process.

Derek’s wolf whined. It wasn’t fair. He had to get up and move. He stood, one hand on his book, pulling away from Stiles in an almost casual way.

“Der, please don’t be mad at me for this.” 

His wolf whined again. He couldn’t do what it wanted, which was wrap the teen in front of him in love and security, but he also couldn’t leave him like this. 

Derek set his book back on the window seat, catching one of Stiles’s hands as it ran agitatedly over the boy’s short hair. “I’m not mad at you, Stiles,” he squeezed the boy’s palm “You need this, if only for you, but none of us want to face time without you.” 

The wonder in Stiles’s face at his words made Derek’s stomach flip flop in delight. He wanted nothing more than to hug the spark and never let go, but instead he dropped Stiles’s hand and made his way over to the door. He’d just reached it when Stiles spoke again “You can read here anytime you want, Alpha, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Stiles,” he said turning for one last look at the teen before slipping out into the hallway.   
————————————————-  
Derek went back to his loft that night, Isaac and Peter coming with him, despite his protests that they could both stay at the cottage. He was grateful for their company.

Isaac was alight with energy and stories from school that Peter was teasing out of him. His pack was getting stronger every day and somehow he could find it within himself to feel hopeful about the future.


	28. Bleach on the carpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry and John talk about that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The next day as John walked into his office he was greeted by his squad, also known as the Three Musketeers. He looked at them curiously, but Jerry just tilted his head at the door, silently asking for it to be closed. 

“It’s 8 in the morning, guys, what’s up?” John asked as soon as he shut the door. They all moved from his desk and settled on the chairs in front of it instead of crowding him. 

“You weren’t home,” Tara finally said. 

“When?” John asked.

“All weekend and yesterday.”

“Ah,” John took a sip of his morning coffee, decaf, to assuage Stiles’s worries about his heart, but it also gave him something to do while he figured out what to tell his friends and colleagues, “No, I wasn’t. Neither was Stiles.”

“Where were you?” Jess pressed, while Adam rolled his eyes at her, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “Subtle” under his breath.  
“What? We were all worried.” 

John put up a hand to break up the impending conflict “I’m sorry that I worried you. It…” he took another sip of coffee and then decided to give them as much truth as possible “It turns out that Claudia had another property in the county, out near the Preserve. Peter Hale, who did some legal work on her will, brought the place to my attention recently. Stiles and I spent most of the weekend there.”

“Oh,” Tara said, surprise flashing across every face in the room except for John’s “Oh, well, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, Tara. It’s good. Stiles sleeps better there,” he put his coffee down and settled into his own chair, looking out at his friends “I sleep better there.”

“Good.”

“Well, then, if that’s all?” John’s voice went up at the end, pointedly asking whether his squad had anything else to ask.

“Back to work then,” Jerry replied, shepherding the other deputies out, but he paused before he left, “We going to see this place anytime soon?” 

“I’ll think about it, Jer.”

Jerry pressed a hand to his chest as if offended. 

“Get out, Jerry. Get to work.”

“Yes, Sheriff.” He sent John a mock salute and left the office, walking back to his own desk. It was good to know his deputies had his back, but as he sat down John wondered if he deserved that kind of support. 

Stiles deserved that support, but did he? 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW-TW

It was eating at him. His guilt. And the problem was he wasn’t even sure what exactly he was guilty of, but Stiles was finally sleeping at least 4-5 hours a night for the first time in who knows how many years and John was so afraid to push. It had only been a week or so since their worlds had been flipped upside down. 

But still, the guilt of the unknown gnawed at him. He didn’t know who to talk to though, because talking to Melissa would be too much too soon. He couldn’t confide in another adult pack member either because none of them had been around after Claudia’s death.

That left his deputies. 

He remembered Jerry saying he’d be honest with him, and that’s all John wanted, honesty. 

He waited until Thursday, when he knew Stiles would be out late tutoring Callie. He asked Adam to make sure his kid stuck around until Scott dropped by. Adam had agreed, but he was definitely curious about why. Still he’d agreed and that’s all John could ask for. 

He’d asked Scott to pick up Stiles from Adam’s place. The teen was also suspicious, but it was for Stiles, so he’d agreed.

He’d told Jerry he needed to speak to him, off the clock, so at 7 Jerry and John were in the cruiser on their way back to the Stilinski house. 

“What’s this about, John?” Jerry asked as they settled in the living room, full coffee mugs in front of them. 

“Stiles.”

“What about him?”

“Me and Stiles.”

“Oh,” Jerry sighed quietly, closing his eyes briefly.

“What do you know, Jer?”

“What do you know, John?”

“Jerry, please, I don’t want to go in blind.”

Jerry’s eyes were still closed. 

“The only reason I’m telling you anything is because if you go in blind he’ll lie. He’ll tell you next to nothing, because he wants to protect you.”

John’s hands started to shake. 

“I know.”

“But everything is circumstantial, John. I’m not entirely sure,”

“I know. Just tell me what you saw.”

Jerry opened his eyes, pinning John with cold eyes. In that moment, John felt like a criminal. 

“Stiles came by the station every day after Claudia died. More often than not he didn’t get to see you or you avoided him.”

“Yeah.” John knew this, he wasn’t proud of it, but it wasn’t news to him.

“One day he didn’t stop by so I came by the house.”

Jerry’s Memory --- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM

Jerry thought back to that evening. The house had light on inside, from the street it had looked normal enough. He’d knocked, once, twice, and then a small, pale face had peeked out from behind the curtains at the front window. Jerry waved at Stiles whose eyes went wide, but a few moments later Stiles’ face peeked around the door. 

“Is my Dad okay?” Stiles’ breathing picked up the pace. 

Jerry swore under his breath. “Yeah kiddo, he’s fine. He’s at the station.” Jerry put out a hand to comfort Stiles, and watched the kid flinch and move back as if it was instinctual. “Stiles may I come in?”

“Why?” Stiles’ voice was smaller and quieter than usual, “Did Dad leave something here? I can go get it.”

“No, kiddo. I…” Jerry decided to go with honesty since it usually served him well in the field “I missed seeing you today and wanted to check in.”

Stiles’ brow furrowed as if he was confused “I’m fine, Deputy.”

“I’m off the clock, kid. You can call me, Jerry. You know that. So, can I come in?”

Stiles had looked nervous, but eventually, he let Jerry in. The room looked clean, but everything was just a bit out of place. 

Jerry’s Memory --- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM

“He was keeping the house together wasn’t he?” Jerry asked John, who nodded, “Did you notice?”

John wanted to say he had, but truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d barely noticed anything in the months after Claudia’s death. Instead of verbally responding he just shook his head. Jerry took in a sharp breath “We didn’t either though. Not that this isn’t on you, John, but it’s on other people too.” He continued telling his story. 

Jerry’s Memory --- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM

Stiles was uncomfortable, that much Jerry could see right off the bat, but it was the way the kid was standing awkwardly in his own living room that led him to his next question. “Are you hurt, Stiles?” 

The kid’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t answer right away. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Damn, even then Stiles was learning to work his way around words. 

“You’re usually a little more energetic for one, and you’re hunching.” Jerry was straight and to the point. 

Stiles straightened at that comment, and while he was able to do it without wincing his shirt, slightly too short on him now, he hadn’t gotten around to buying new clothes yet. Stiles’ shirt rode up exposing a dark purple bruise along his hip disappearing around his back. 

Jerry reached for Stiles’ hand, stopping it when the kid went to pulled down his shirt. “Stiles, what happened?”

And he remembered the moment that Stiles had slipped, his eyes darting over to a photo of him and his dad. But Jerry didn’t jump into an interrogation, because Stiles still hadn’t answered his question. “Stiles, show me.”

Stiles backed up instead of coming closer. “No.”

“Stiles,” he stepped forward, but when Stiles’ backed himself physically up against the wall, wincing as he did so, Jerry stopped, putting up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m not going to come closer, okay?”

Stiles nodded, hesitantly. 

“Stiles, you’re hurt. What happened?”

“I fell.”

“Stiles.”

The kid bit his lip and Jerry could see the wheels of his mind turning. 

“Jackson pushed me. I fell.”

“Stiles, did anyone see?”

Stiles shook his head.

“Does your dad know?”

Another head shake.

“Stiles, can you look me in the eye and tell me that’s actually what happened?”

Stiles did it. But Jerry knew he was lying. 

“Do you want me to take a look at it? It looks painful.”

“It’s fine.”

Jerry looked around trying to pick up some clues. 

“Stiles, could you get me some water.”

The request caught Stiles off guard, but he slowly inched away from the wall and away to the kitchen. Jerry started off with the wall Stiles had been leaning against, noting some dents in it. He dropped down to his knees noting that the carpet looked especially clean, running his fingers through it he smelled bleach. He kept an ear out for Stiles, listening as the kid grabbed ice before going for the water. Walking over to the photo Stiles had looked at he noticed a series of small fractures in the glass. 

As Stiles’ footsteps reached his ears he put the photo back and turned to take the glass “Thank you, Stiles.”

“You’re welcome, Deputy.”

“So, it’s a no on the Jerry, then?”

Stiles ducked his head, not reacting well to the teasing. 

“Hey,” Jerry set his glass down, crouching down to tip Stiles’ chin up, but the kid flinched back. 

Jerry put his hands back up, “I’m not going to hurt you, Stiles.”

“I know,” Stiles mumbled.

Before he could ask more questions, he heard John’s cruiser roll up in the driveway. “I’m just going to drop my glass in the kitchen okay, kid?”

Stiles shook his head, almost violently, “I’ll take it.” But then the door opened and Stiles dashed for it, shocked probably that his dad was home. 

Jerry placed his glass in the sink, noticing that a cupboard door was cracked open. Curious, he opened it to see two full bottles of whisky, with a half-full bottle up front. 

“Investigating me, Jerry?”

“Nah, just checking in,” Jerry closed the cupboard, watching Stiles shadow his father around the room. 

“I’ll see you on night shift?” John asked, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. 

“Aren’t you in for the night?”

“Nope,” John had turned around, bumping into Stiles, “Stiles!” John took a deep breath, “Go finish your homework.”

“But…”

“Stiles, go.” Stiles nodded and left, scrunching his shoulders again.

“Is he having trouble at school?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Well, he said he and Jackson aren’t on great terms.”

“Yeah, well, let’s be honest. Stiles could wind up a saint,” muttered John, “You heading out, Deputy?”

“He said Jackson pushed him. It looks rough, John.”

“I’ll talk to him, Jer.” John grabbed a bottle out of the cupboard pouring a finger of alcohol. 

“John,” Jerry put his hand out to stop his friend, but John knocked it back. 

“Jerry, I’ve got four hours to sleep, eat, and then I’ll be back at the station okay? Leave.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t maybe take the night off?”

“I’m fine, Jerry.”

“You’ll talk to Stiles?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to my damn kid.”

“John…” then the phone rang. 

“Sheriff Stilinski speaking… Yeah, I’ll be there. Call came in.” He hung up the phone, downed the drink, left the empty glass on the counter, grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door. 

He missed Stiles, crouching by the kitchen listening to their conversation. Jerry didn’t though, but Stiles slipped away before he could say anything. 

Stiles’ eyes, sad and hurt, had haunted him for some time. 

Jerry’s Memory --- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM--- JM --- JM

“Every time I asked him about it after that day he told me things were fine. He didn’t let me come close to him for awhile, but he went about it in a way that meant I didn’t notice it for what it was, avoidance.”

Their coffees were cold now. 

“So, something happened,” John murmured, “Bleach on the carpet, what the hell?”

He scrubbed his eyes with his hands, and his breathing picked up. 

“God dammit!” He slammed his hand onto the arm of the chair, but then he murmured “Stiles, how, why” he kept rambling. 

Jerry left out a silent sigh of relief, up until telling this story a small part of himself had been worried. Worried that maybe John didn’t really care, that this had been going on for years, but the John in front of him was distraught. Jerry moved to comfort him, but John pulled back “I don’t deserve comfort, Jer,” he hiccupped, voice cracking. 

“Don’t do that. He doesn’t need your self-pity, John. He needs you to step the hell up,” Jerry told his friend, clapping him on the shoulder. 

John nodded. 

“Why don’t I make you a fresh cup of coffee?”

Jerry drew John up, and pulled him into the kitchen. 

“I drained the house,” John mumbled as Jerry rustled around.

“Every bottle?”

“Yeah, the morning I took time off to be with Stiles.”

“That’s a good first step.”

They fell silent. John’s head in his hands. Jerry allowing him the time to process. 

When Jerry set a fresh cup down in front of John.

“Did you ever say anything else to me?”

“He told me he’d talked to you.”

“Of course.”

“What am I supposed to do, Jer?”

“Talk to him.”

“He won’t…” Jer flicked him in the forehead, drawing his attention. 

“Make him. Let him feel comfortable enough to tell you what happened.”

John nodded.

“I don’t like it when you’re silent,” Jerry grumbled. 

“Yeah, silent Stilinskis seem to freak people out.”

“Talk me through what’s going on in your head, John.”

John looked over at his friend. 

“Okay.” He started to talk about Claudia, about her death, afterward, and about all of the things that Stiles had revealed that he felt comfortable telling Jerry. So, nothing supernatural, but everything in between was fair game. 

Jerry listened for some time until John ran out of steam. Then Jerry started to talk. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW-TW

“So, Scotty, want to tell me why you decided to drop by Adam’s place tonight?”

“Bro time?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but laughed at his friend, shoving him. Or trying to, but “Damn werewolf, strength and muscle,” muttered Stiles as he found he could only shove Scott a few inches. 

“I don’t believe you by the way.” Stiles paused their video game. 

“Why not?” Scott’s face turned sad, puppy eyes in full force. 

Stiles covered his face “Not like that, Scott. I know you want to spend time with me,” his heart skipped, catching Scott’s attention “But like, why tonight?”

“No wait, you lied to me,” Scott told him, waving away the rest of his words.

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions, Scotty.”

“Then say it again.”

“Say what?”

“That you know that I want to spend time with you,” Scott prompted him.

“Scott, this is ridiculous.” Stiles tossed his controller onto the carpet, getting up to stretch, “I should be heading home.”

Scott grabbed Stiles as he turned to leave the McCall living room “Stiles,” he whined, wrapping his friend in bear hug from the back. 

Stiles paused. 

“Scott, let me go,” his voice was quiet. 

“Not until you say it back,” muttered Scott into his shoulder. 

“Scotty, I know… I know you spend time with me, because…”

“Because you’re my brother,” Scott murmured “And I love you.” 

A wave of anxiety swept over Stiles as Scott spoke. 

“You’re not ready yet,” Scott said, slowly releasing Stiles. 

Stiles turned around, shoulders hunched, and Scott hated to see him like that and reached out a hand. “I’m just… these past two weeks have just been…”

“A lot,” Scott replied “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“Aww, Scott. It’s not your fault.”

Scott opened his mouth, but Stiles slapped his hand over it “Hush, teen wolf.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet until Stiles moved his hand away. 

“Your dad asked me to keep you out of the house for a bit,” Scott confessed. Stiles looked up, his anxiety spike toning down.

“Thanks for telling me, Scott.”

“I just want to help.”

“I know, bro.”

Scott looked at Stiles hopefully before the other teen rolled his eyes, “Yes, you can have another hug, bro.” Scott laughed, but wrapped Stiles up in another hug before eventually sending him off in his Jeep. 

TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW---TW--TW-TW

John finally took a sip of coffee. 

“Is this decaf?”

“Damn right it is, you think I’m going to risk Stiles’ wrath?” Jerry asked his friend “No thank you.”

“Good to know my intimidation tactics are working,” Stiles interjected, he sat down at the table, next to his dad, surprising both men with his presence. “So, Scott was supposed to distract me from what, exactly?” While his tone was casual, his eyes were sharp glancing between Jerry and his dad. 

“Just catching up,” Jerry told Stiles, “your dad told us about your mom’s house.”

Stiles’ gaze softened slightly “Yeah, it’s beautiful” but then his gaze sharpened again “And I’ll let you pretend that’s why you’re here, Jerry.” He pushed away from the table “I’ve got some reading to do, see you Deputy.” He tipped any imaginary hat at Jerry and grasped his dad’s shoulder before heading out into the living room. 

John bit his lip, to keep from immediately asking Stiles to come back so he could look at him. Make sure he was okay. 

Jerry watched him.

“John, I’m going to go.”

John stood up too. 

“Talk to him, John.”

“I will, tomorrow.”

“Not scheduled for Saturday?”

John shook his head. 

“Good idea.”

“See you Stiles,” Jerry called out as he made his way to the door.

“Night Jerry.”

“Night John,” Jerry surprised his friend with a brief hug at the door “It’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Jer,” John’s voice was raspy as he shut the door behind his friend. 

John stood at the door for a few minutes then made his way into the living room where Stiles was reading, splayed out on the couch, seemingly comfortable. He stood for moment, watching his son while Stiles was unaware, until he spoke. 

“You good, Pops?”

John blinked, Stiles was still turned toward his book. 

“Yeah, kiddo.”

Stiles put down his book and turned to look at his dad. His face fell and he got up quickly, coming over to his dad. 

“You don’t look good, Dad. Sit down,” Stiles pushed him down onto the couch.

“I’m good, Stiles.”

“No, you’re not.” His dad was pale and a bit shaky. 

“What the hell were you two talking about?” muttered Stiles, off-hand, pressing the back of his hand to his dad’s forehead. 

John grabbed Stiles’ hand, “Kid, I’m good.”

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other,” Stiles told him, hurt in his voice.

“Aww, Mica,” John told him, voice soft “I’m not…” Stiles raised his eyebrows at him. 

“Just, not tonight, okay, Mica?”

Stiles bit his lip, clearly worried. 

“Tomorrow? Can we talk tomorrow?” John whispered “Please, Mischief.”

“Okay, Dad. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Physically, I’m fine, kiddo.”

Stiles closed his eyes, then opened them and nodded. “Okay.”

“Come here,” John opened his arms and Stiles hesitated for a moment, but then happily burrowed into his dad’s side for a hug “I love you, Mica.”

“I love you too, Pops.”


	29. He needed something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John talks to Bobby. 
> 
> Stiles is ready to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

It was the next night when John knocked on Bobby’s door. It was Friday and his hands were shaking, his face was pale, but his mind was set.

Bobby opened the door, cautiously then seeing John his eyes widened in confusion.

“He should go with you. He wants to.”

“John? Are you alright?”

“No. But this isn’t about me. He needs to get away. He needs to heal. Please, Bobby.”

Bobby shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. 

“He’s already asked us,” and John let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.”

“John, are you sure?” 

“No.”

“Then why?”

“He’s sure.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Take care of him, Singer, please.”

“We will, John.”

“He’s all I have.”

“I know.”

The conversation didn’t continue much further after that. Stiles was already curled up in his room at the house, failing to fight back his tears.

His bags were packed.

He felt like he had no choice.

No one was healing, least of all his father. 

He needed to leave.

He needed to go.

He needed... something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry.


	30. They would be okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

At 5 am the next morning he slipped several letters into envelopes and left them on his desk. His dad would find them there. 

He wouldn’t see him before he left. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. Instead, he drove his Jeep to the cottage with his bags in the back. 

Bobby met him outside. 

“I’m going to ride with you, kid.” 

Stiles nodded. 

“You all set?”

He nodded again. 

When Bobby opened his mouth again Stiles went to cut off the question he knew was coming, but found himself interrupted by Sam.

“He knows his own mind, Bobby. Let the kid be.”

Bobby shut his mouth and nodded. 

They loaded up their cars quietly and quickly.

Soon, Stiles was in the driver’s seat staring up at the cottage. Staring up at his dad’s window and knowing he was watching even if he couldn’t see him. 

But then he tore his eyes away, put Roscoe into gear, and he set off after the Impala, following it down the track and out past the Beacon Hills sign.

He was leaving. 

He could barely breathe for a moment, but then, suddenly, he could breathe a whole lot easier. 

Bobby watched the tension slowly melt from the kid’s body and thought for the first time that maybe this is what Stiles needed after all.

Derek woke up to a strange feeling, like he was being pulled taut like a string, stretched across a distance. He stumbled out of his room at the loft, frantic.

Peter was the one to met him. “Hush, pup,” Peter soothed, pulling his nephew into the living room and wrapping around him. 

Derek could hear whining, and was concerned for Isaac until he realized the whining was coming from him.

“What’s happening?” He gritted our through his teeth, curling toward Peter and the scent of safety and pack that he offered. 

“I think,” Peter chose his words carefully “that your pack bond with Stiles is being tested.”

“Lie” Derek gritted our as another, stronger feeling of emptiness washed over him “that’s not what this is! Peter, please” his wolf wanted to howl in despair. 

Peter curled around his nephew tighter, anchoring him. “Delve into the bond, Derek. Your answers are there.”

Hissing in frustration and fear, Derek dipped into the bond he shared with Stiles, something he’d never indulged in except to find the teen that one time. It was a current of energy and emotion. It sang under his light prod and then, before he could stop it, his wolf pushed to the surface.

Derek pulled out of the bond, not surprised so much as terrified. He knew he felt something for Stiles but this? 

“Mate?” He whispered to Peter. His uncle nodded. “He’s leaving?” Peter nodded again. “Why?”

Derek’s voice cracked on the last question. “He’ll be back, pup. I promise.” Peter tried to soothe Derek but the alpha was in pain and he knew, from experience, that it would get worse before it got better. 

Scott woke up, ready for work when he heard his mom knock lightly on his door. 

“Come in.”

“Scott...”

The wolf smelt tears and sorrow before he saw her. 

“Mom, what happened?”

“Stiles left.”

The words did not compute. Scott stared at her, dumbfounded.

“No.”

“Scott, he left with Bobby and the Winchesters this morning”

He could hear her telling the truth, but still he shook his head. 

Melissa crossed the room and hugged him tightly. She was crying again.

“Gone?” Scott whispered “For how long?” 

“We don’t know, kiddo.”

Scott buried his face in his mom’s neck and cried. 

Thank god it was a Saturday. The pack came together slowly but surely, gathering at the cottage. Derek, John, and Scott looked the most shell-shocked. 

“He needed it,” John murmured for the fifth time into the silence.

Derek who’d recovered slightly after checking both houses just to make Stiles was actually gone, had given the Sheriff his son’s letter for him. The man had started to cry just holding it and eventually he had pulled Derek into a fierce hug that the alpha returned whole heartedly.

“He did.” 

For the first time since they’d all gathered Derek spoke. 

“He needs to get better. To heal. He can’t” Derek’s wolf whined at him “We can’t help him right now.”

His distress made the betas crowd him in an attempt to provide him comfort. It was Erica who eventually asked “Alpha, can we... stay here, with you?”

The pack was stressed and distressed. Nothing would solve that better than being underfoot each other but it wasn’t Derek’s place to allow his pack to stay. It was John’s place. Well, John’s and Stiles’ cottage.

“Stay. Please.” 

John’s voice was small, sad, and desperate.

“Please.”

Derek looked over at the Sheriff then looked at his pack. They needed a den and with all of them in various shades of shambles after Stiles’ departure he couldn’t deny John his request.

“Okay. We’ll stay.” 

And something inside of them all settled, quietly but solidly. They were together despite it all.

Stiles felt the echo of it as he drove and a small smile stretched over his lips. They would be okay. They had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm continuing this story in another work. In it I plan to catalogue Stiles' time with the Winchesters and Bobby as well as some of how the pack heals in his absence. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me. 
> 
> I'll update with my new work at some point this week.


End file.
